


Choices

by unicornball



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex- Descriptive, HP: EWE, Kid Fic, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Male Slash, Mysterious Terminal Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>Draco gets a diagnosis that will change everything.</strong>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Harry/Draco established relationship._
> 
> _Heads up for a main character death and depressing feels (I know... but they all can't be fluffy schmoop). This will probably contain OCC-ness; it gets a bit hazy for me when the characters are put into such situations the JKR never did. Heh..._

Draco can, as usual, only stare at the Healer sitting in front of him. Harry is sitting next to him, his chair practically on top of his, with both hands firmly gripped around his own slim, pale one. He's absently brushing his thumb along Harry's knuckles, vaguely paying attention to the man sitting across from them.

"Mister Potter?" the Healer says, and Draco gets the impression it's not the first time the healer has addressed him. He tries to squash the usual pleasant tingle (which always leads to the urge to show a goofy smile) he feels at being addressed as such, especially considering where he was, but he can't.

He visibly shakes his head and gives the Healer an apologetic smile. "Yes. Sorry. I do apologize. You were saying?" He twirls his free hand in a 'go on' gesture and squeezes the other around Harry's as he turns briefly to smile at him.

Healer Webb gives both men a single glance before he shuffles through the parchments on his desk importantly. Draco hides a smirk; he can't stand the odious healer but Harry insisted on seeing him since he is the most qualified. It's a damn shame but he'll go along with it to keep Harry happy.

"Yes. As I was saying, we can manage the condition with potions but that's all we can do. _Manage_. It's proven to be quite--" The man pauses and tents his finger tips while pursing his lips slightly, as if searching for the proper word, "resistant to any and all treatments we've tried. Healer Granger-Richardson has introduced some Muggle medical techniques with adequate results."

Draco smirks outright; Hermione's additions have been staggering. He nearly rolls his eyes at the description of her hard work and insight being called merely 'adequate'.

"However, even combining the two treatment styles, we can only look forward to pushing this back a year, maybe fourteen months." Healer Webb pauses again, giving Harry a brief look. "I realize this is hard news to take," he looks back to Draco, "but I assure you we are doing everything in our power to help."

Draco clears his throat so he won't let loose a snort but Harry has no such tact, he's secretly pleased to see. He tends to phase out at these appointments, relying heavily on Harry to pay attention and tell him what happened later.

He really can't help his inattention at times and Harry never even batted an eye when he asked for a re-cap or to explain something the Healer had already explained. Harry even keeps detailed notes in a Muggle spiral bound notepad. It would be cute if it wasn't a bit too morbid for his sense of humor.

Harry snorts and gives the healer a sardonic look. "Yes. I'm sure you are. We've seen numerous specialists and they've all told us the same thing." He pauses, his face morphing into a pained expression that Draco has to look away from. "You've given us the longest prognosis though." He swallows thickly. "We'd be remiss to not take the available treatments. So, how soon can we start?"

Draco does snort this time, but he covers it nicely with a soft cough. He knows Harry is barely restraining himself from launching across the desk at the pompous little man. But he's never really gotten used to Harry sounding like some snooty pure-blood, though he's not-so-secretly proud to have rubbed off on the other man. _Prognosis? Remiss?_ He doesn't doubt Harry _knows_ the words, he's just amused he has said them out loud without being contrary or giggling. It's actually a rather big turn on to watch Harry like this; all protective and high class.

"Harry--" he starts.

Harry turns to Draco sharply, his green eyes dark and serious. "No. You're _not_ going to do this," he hisses in a fierce whisper. "We talked about it. You're _going_ with the treatments." His expression softens and he brushes his fingers along the back of Draco's captive hand. "We'll only discuss other options... later," he says softly and squeezes Draco's hand again, his green eyes dimmed slightly but still alight with hope and determination.

"I know." Draco gives Harry a small smile as he nods; they had indeed talked about it and he had indeed agreed. It certainly wouldn't hurt anything. He looks back to Healer Webb and nods again. He squeezes Harry's hand, hopefully conveying reassurance. He wants to pull Harry into his lap and wrap his arms around him but he restrains himself. But it's something he reminds himself to do, later, when he can. They could both use the comforting contact.

The healer nods back and shuffles through his parchments again and clears his throat. "Yes, well. The treatments are rather costly--"

Harry snarls and Draco can feel his magic tickling at him (though he knows it's a lot more unpleasant for Healer Webb) as Harry tries to restrain his rage. "Cost is not an issue," Harry says coldly.

Draco shifts subtly in his chair, trying to ease the sudden arousal from Harry's display.

Healer Webb shifts in his padded chair, obviously uncomfortable even though Harry's magic is already dissipating and clears his throat nervously. "Yes, of course, Mister Potter. I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Just merely informing you," he says sounding rather shaky as he tries on a smile.

Draco is sure it's supposed to look reassuring, not constipated. He bites the inside of his lip to stifle an inappropriate giggle.

"As I was saying, the treatments are costly and largely need to be tailored to each patient. We need blood samples and it will take at least a week to get the proper potions brewed for Mister Potter to start his treatments. Also, there are Muggle pharmaceuticals needed. I will give you a list and a prescription for those. He can start those as soon as he can get them. You will need--" He pauses and looks through his file a moment. "Aha! You will need this card to get them. Muggles require permission for these drugs, so here's the card you'll need."

He leans over and hands the card to Harry, who looks it over with a raised eyebrow. "Is there a problem?" he asks when he sees Harry's expression.

"I don't know," Harry looks at the card again. "This says 'David Higginsworth' on it." He looks up at the healer, a slight scowl on his face. It's a ridiculous name and he doesn't understand why the man felt Draco needs a false name to begin with.

Draco, Merlin help him, has to bite the inside of his cheek again to keep from grinning or (more inappropriately) straddling Harry's lap and snogging the man senseless. He can't _help_ it, he loves when Harry shows his fierce protective side on his behalf. Even after nearly 10 years, it thrills him in the most delicious ways. He often wonders if Harry knows that and does it just to get him going.

"Yes," Healer Webb nods hesitantly, no longer all that comfortable around Harry. "We weren't sure about using his real name. Even in Muggle London. Anyway, you will have to pay with Muggle cash, as we aren't prepared to go with insurance and all that rot. Waste of time, really," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "The contact information comes to me or Mrs. Granger-Richardson if there are any problems." He leans back in his chair, tenting his fingers again and looks between both men. "Any other questions?"

Harry looks to Draco, who shakes his head once, and sighs softly. "No. Thank you. Please let us know when we can start the potions."

He understands about half of the words the Healer used, which isn't a surprise, and makes a quick note of the words and phrases. He'd had very little contact with doctors when he was growing up but he had heard enough when he'd overhear his aunt or uncle discuss Dudder's health check-ups.

Harry makes another note to explain what he understood to Draco, fully aware his husband had tuned out most of the visit. He brushes a hand over Draco's cheek when the Healer turns to retrieve some empty vials.

The healer takes two vials of blood from Draco and they floo home shortly after.

 

...oOo...

"Harry," Draco calls softly as he walks up the stairs.

They've been home for hours and Harry disappeared upstairs the moment they had exited the floo after giving him a peck on the cheek. He sighs softly; he knows the visits are getting harder and harder on Harry and he grits his teeth with impotent rage and regret.

He had only tried once to leave Harry when they got the diagnosis, but Harry wouldn't allow it; stubbornly reciting the 'til death to us part' section of their bonding vows in a choked up voice. He never mentioned doing it again, entirely too selfish and relieved to miss out on any time with Harry.

He hears a soft, rustling-shifting noise but no response from Harry. Slowly he makes his way to their bedroom and opens the door. There is a glowing orb of soft yellow light hovering in the corner of the room, just enough light for him to see Harry's prone form on the bed. He smiles softly at the orb, pleased Harry used the charm he had taught him so often. Neither of them enjoyed the dark very much and neither of them were shy about admitting it.

"Harry," he says again. The form shifts slightly.

After a moment of silence, Harry answers. The "Yeah?" is muffled and hoarse, making Draco's chest feel tight. He closes his eyes for a moment; he never could handle tears very well, especially Harry's. It's all the more painful because Harry rarely allowed them to fall, even if he was alone.

Draco slowly approaches the bed, watching Harry closely. His knees barely touch the mattress when Harry quickly rolls over, sits up and grabs his waist and buries his face in his stomach. He can feel tears soaking into his shirt and he can't help the strangled noise of desperation that escapes him as he rests his hands in Harry's wild mess of soft black hair.

"Harry," he murmurs softly. "It's alright, love."

Harry rears back immediately and Draco can see the angry scowl on his face. He barely can be thankful the anger has evaporated Harry's tears before the dark haired man's arms squeeze almost painfully around his waist.

"How is it alright, Draco?" Harry hisses. "What part of this is supposed to be _alright?_ " His breath hitches and he muffles a sob against Draco's belly as he lowers his face again. He hates crying and he hates doing it when Draco is around to see or hear it.

Draco shifts awkwardly, pressing Harry back so he can lay down. Immediately Harry adjusts his hold and is wrapped around his chest, his face in the hollow of his throat, tucked securely right under his chin.

He closes his eyes as he feels the wetness against his skin and he tries to find words. "I know it's not alright, but I mean this isn't the way we need to handle this, love. I don't want to spend my time weeping and angry." He looks down and is pleased to see Harry looking up at him with a thoughtful frown. He leans down to kiss Harry's lips softly.

"I am so angry I don't get more time with you," he says softly. Harry's eyes close, but not before he can see the regret and pain. "I want to just lay here and cry and moan at the fates for this, but I don't want to waste the time we've been given." He squeezes his husband in his arms. "I am not going to just lay down and accept this, we'll fight it." He feels Harry nod, smiling as he feels the dark messy hair tickling his chest, neck and chin, and squeeze him tightly. "But we need to face reality."

Harry leans back slightly, his lips parted in surprise. "I know that, Draco." He leans back down, squeezing Draco tightly again as he releases a shaky sigh. "I'm just wallowing for a moment. I can't help it," he says with a soft huff. "It feels like some personal slight, I just can't keep people that I love," he whispers. "I know it's selfish to think of this as happening to me," he smiles when Draco chuckles softly and runs a hand through his hair, "but I couldn't chase that thought away. I'm sorry. I won't waste our time, love."

He leans up and presses a hard kiss to Draco's lips. "I don't think it's unreasonable for me to be upset, though. It's so fucking unfair, Draco," he chokes out.

Draco can only nod for a moment before he can find his voice again. He's squeezing Harry tightly but he doesn't loosen his hold since there are no protests. "I know, love. I agree with you completely." He just lays, quiet, holding his Harry for a long moment. "So," he says, trying to sound casual. "I had an idea. I want something."

Harry nods immediately and lays quietly, waiting. After a long moment of continued silence he looks up again. Draco is biting his lip and looking pensive. He leans up on an elbow so he can give the blond his full attention.

He cups Draco's cheek, his hand sliding down to rest on his chest. "What is it? What do you want, Draco? Anything," he promises.

Draco smiles as he reaches up to cup a hand around Harry's neck. "Alright. I want Neville Longbottom." Harry just stares at him for a long moment. He can see so many emotions flit across Harry's face, he's amazed he doesn't get dizzy following them. Doubt, rejection, amusement, affection, confusion and even a small dash of lust. It's all, oddly, reassuring.

"I don't understand," Harry finally says, slowly. "You'll need to be more specific, Draco."

"Harry," Draco's thumb slides along Harry's bottom lip lightly, "I want to get along with Neville Longbottom," he clarifies with a soft smile. "I want to be friends with him. I want you to get your relationship with him back. I want, well, whatever else might happen," he ends with a teasing smirk and a carefree shrug.

Harry gapes at him a moment, his tongue flicking out unconsciously to lap at Draco's thumb. "I still don't understand, love," he says softly. "I _am_ still friends with him--"

"No, Harry," Draco interrupts, his thumb swiveling across Harry's lips and stopping his words. "You're _colleagues_ with him. Completely different things, love. I've scared him away so you only see the man at work," he admits, quietly. "I know you love him," he says matter-of-factly, removing his thumb to caress a trail along Harry's jaw.

He smiles as Harry's cheeks pink and a light shiver works it way through his body. He's not sure whether his actions or his words cause Harry's reaction and he's not sure he cares.

Harry flushes as he slowly shakes his head but he doesn't drop his eyes, "I love _you_ , Draco." He did love Neville, but it's only as a friend. They had been through too much together to not have _some_ feelings for the other man.

He'd had a rather large crush on his dorm-mate in fifth year but never approached Neville since he didn't know how he'd react to his affection... plus he had found himself quite distracted that year. He later learned that Neville, like many in the wizarding world, was what Muggles called 'pansexual'... or something; he didn't care about the gender of someone when he liked them.

He never regretted moving his feelings for Neville into the 'friend-zone', especially after things with Draco started getting serious, but he did miss his friend something terrible. Neville was one of the few people whose loyalty never wavered.

"Mmhmm." Draco smiles and laughs softly. "I know you do, Harry. And I love you," he pauses for a moment and enjoys the way Harry's eyes darken and his lips part slightly with pleasure at his words. "But I know I'm not the only man you've ever loved. I honestly wonder at it sometimes," he murmurs.

He had been surprised and a bit skeptical to learn Harry was a virgin (in nearly every way) when they first got together. At first he thought the man was just extremely picky and didn't bother with people he thought to be below him. Once he got to know Harry, Draco found out he was just socially awkward and too distracted to indulge in normal teenage activities. He had quite enjoyed helping Harry through his pent up feelings and showing him whatever he desired.

Harry grins. "Oh Draco, I've loved lots of men," he leers playfully, trying to make it sound like Draco isn't the only man he's ever slept with. "I loved Sirius. I loved Remus. I've loved Ron." His face falls a moment as he remembers his ex-best friend who wouldn't accept Harry's choices. He shakes his head and smirks, "I think I even loved Snape a little bit," he snickers. "I do love Neville," he finishes softly. "But it's not the sa--"

"Yes, you do Harry," Draco says, cutting Harry off again. "It's not the same but it's so fucking close, it really could be. I've seen how you interact with him. I think it's one of the reasons I was so pissed at him," he admits with a sheepish smile. "I _also_ know you chose me," he smirks and kisses Harry hard for a moment.

He smirks at the dazed look on Harry's face as he pulls way from the possessive kiss. "But if there had been the slightest change in events, you'd have been happy with him, too. I still marvel that you chose me, with all the drama and hardship that came with it," he says softly and runs a hand through Harry's hair, smiling as he watches the wild strands spring back and go in every direction.

Harry blinks down at Draco a moment. "I'll always choose you, Draco," he murmurs and kisses him softly, his gaze darting around Draco's face, enjoying the pleased flushed on the pale cheeks and the darkened steely eyes. "Alright. I see what you're saying. I think. I'm sorry, Draco. I won't do it," he says with a frown and shakes his head.

He wants Neville back in his life, but not like he _knows_ Draco is trying to imply. He couldn't...

"Yes you will, Harry," Draco counters, his voice firm. "I'm not saying you need to sleep with him, for Merlin's sake!" He snickers at Harry's wide-eyed expression, "I'm saying you need to get him back in your life. I've been able to put up with Granger, I think I can handle Longbottom."

He honestly got along rather well with Neville the few times they had interacted and briefly feels like a massive bastard for keeping the man out of Harry's life.

"And," he rushes on as he sees Harry's mouth open to defend Hermione, "if something... more--" He makes a vaguely obscene hand gesture, "--develops you are not allowed to hold back." He can't stand the knowledge that he'll be leaving Harry alone. His husband is woefully short on loving people in his life and he'd be damned if Harry lost another one. Neville has always been a fiercely loyal friend and he needs that for Harry now more than ever.

Harry stares down at the blonde, lost in thought. "I would love to have Neville back in my life but I'm not going to flirt with him, especially not anytime in the future. Draco, I love you. You can't expect me to just wander into some other man's bed just because you tell me to."

He'd laugh at the utter balls it takes for Draco to mention the very thought but he can understand Draco's intentions lie. He aches a bit at the odd way his husband shows his caring, protective nature.

He frowns down at his husband, "And you certainly can't tell me I can't mourn and miss you either. Fuck _that_."

"Harry," Draco says with a sigh and laughs softly, pulling Harry flush against his chest. "I'm not saying that, per se. But you can see the general idea of what I'm saying. I can't stand the idea of you being without love, Harry" he murmurs softly, his hands sliding under Harry's t-shirt to caress and slide over smooth, warm skin. "I couldn't bear the thought of you alone and devastated," he says, the words soft and coming out a bit choked. He takes a deep breath and a smile flickers across his lips, "Because, naturally, you will be devastated without me."

Harry glares up at him a moment before his gaze softens. "I will be" he whispers. "I don't think anything, or any _one_ , can stop that, Draco."

He moans softly as Draco's hands slide down his back and slip under the hem of his sleep pants. A swift move and the elastic waistband is pushed down to his thighs. "Draco," he whispers, "I think--" His breath hitches as he feels fingers brush along the crack of his ass. "Oh," he breathes when those fingers return, dripping lube and sliding around in circles as they slip lower and caress. As usual when Draco wand-lessly conjures lube, he mentally thanks magic with enthusiasm.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco breathes, sliding one hand around Harry's hip to brush against his growing erection.

Harry groans; sometimes he still can't believe how quickly, and easily, Draco can turn him into a wanting mass of goo. He could almost forget what they've been talking about just a moment ago. As fingers move and press warmly, slickly, against him, he does.

Draco chuckles. "Very eloquent, Potter." He uses his shoulder to ease Harry onto his back before sliding down his body. "Damn pants," he mumbles just before his teeth latch onto the elastic top and yanks them down Harry's legs. He chuckles again when Harry promptly kicks his legs to get them all the way off when he slides them down far enough.

As soon as Harry settles back down, he drags his tongue up his hard length, thrilling at the low moan from Harry. As he tongues along the slit, gathering a bead of pre-come and swallowing it with a smile, he delights in the keening groan he hears and finally envelops Harry's cock after his pleading moans have gotten desperate enough.

Harry gasps and bucks, driving his cock further into his throat. He's ready for it and eagerly swallows around the thick, velvety hardness with practiced ease and closes his eyes in pleasure when he feels Harry's hands burrow into his pale strands. Merlin, he loves when Harry grabs him like that, like he's the only thing keeping him attached to the earth.

"Oh fuck, Draco," Harry breathes. He feels more than hears Draco's contented hum and he can't help but buck his hips again at the sensation. Draco's hand slides up his thigh, pushing down and then resting on his hip, holding him down lightly.

He opens his eyes to look down and twitches with a groan when he sees the blonde somehow able to smirk around his cock. "Draco," he moans again. "No," he whines in protest as Draco bobs up and down, his tongue pressing, swirling and gliding along the sensitive underside of his cock as he goes. The blonde bastard is way too experienced, knowing just how to get him to the brink of orgasm. He doesn't want to come yet, not like this.

"No." Harry's hands pull weakly and try to lift Draco's insistent head. "Please. Inside me. I don't want to--" He moans loudly when Draco slides in a slick finger, quickly followed by a second before he can even finish the sentence or breathe. "Yeah, oh fuck, Draco. Fuck me," he groans, not exactly instructing but he knows Draco will take it as such.

Draco closes his eyes with a moan, letting Harry's cock slip from his mouth and slap wetly against his belly. He had been pleasantly surprised to learn Harry mumbled and moaned filthy words when lost to passion; it was a surprising turn-on from the normally clean-mouthed Gryffindor.

A frown appears on Harry's flushed face for a moment but before he can complain he slides in a third finger as he leans up and captures a dusky, pert nipple in his mouth. "Such language. But don't worry, I will, Harry," he breathes, watching the nub pebble in the cool breeze of his breath before glancing up to meet the dark emerald gaze Harry sends him.

He trails hot, open mouth kisses up Harry's chest and to his neck, nibbling and biting gently where his shoulder meets. Harry gasps softly and he captures his lips in a searing kiss. Harry sighs into the kiss, opening up to his questing tongue a moment later. He slowly pulls back so he can kneel between Harry's spread legs.

Harry's hands are immediately on the button of Draco's jeans, and he pushes the heavy material down just enough to free Draco's hard, leaking cock. Merlin, he loves when Draco wears Muggle jeans. They rode low on his hips and did amazing things for his arse. It was worth the many promised (and happily done) sexual favors it took to get Draco to even try them on that first time.

"Draco," he whispers again, his hands sliding up and down Draco's back before resting and clenching in his pale hair. "I love you, so much," he whispers as Draco slowly slides into him. "So much," he murmurs, clutching Draco as his body adjusts to the intrusion.

"I know," Draco smiles softly down at Harry. "I love you, too," he says, kissing Harry's parted lips. Slowly, he slides his tongue against Harry's and he feels Harry's hips twitch and circle, a sign he's ready for him to move.

With a low moan, he slowly slides back out. Loving the way Harry's body clenches around him as if to keep him inside. It doesn't take long for his slow pace to quicken, his only focus the in and out of Harry's glorious body. Harry's back arches beautifully as he moans, bringing a leg up over his hip, drawing him closer and deeper.

Harry gasps and cries out as Draco slams into his prostate. "Oh, fuck, right there," he moans.

"Yes," Draco hisses, angling his thrusts to hit the same spot. He circles his hips sharply, loving the way Harry arches and gasps a low moan and he thrusts. He answers each plea of "harder!" or "faster!", his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Harry's hands are digging into his arse but it feels fantastic.

He grunts as fingers dig in and find all the places that make him tingle and fuck into Harry with wild abandon. Harry throws his head back, and he attacks the golden column of his throar with his lips, tongue and teeth. He hums against warm skin, the addicting taste of _Harry_ on his tongue as he presses their bodies closer, trapping Harry's hard and leaking cock between their bellies.

Draco leans down, his tongue sliding around the shell of his ear. He angles his hips again, thrusting deeply as he feels Harry's body start to clench and convulse around his cock. He grunts with relief when Harry's body bows and he cries out as Draco feels his cock pulsing between them, his warm come splashing and smearing between their bodies.

"Hng," Draco groans, his own orgasm nearly ripped from him, his vision going a speckly white a moment as he steadily fills Harry's body with his release. He collapses bonelessly, pinning Harry between himself and the bed, unable to hold himself up anymore. Harry doesn't complain, he just wraps his arms and legs firmly around his heaving, sweaty body and sighs deeply with contentment.

After a moment, when he's mostly caught his breath, Harry laughs quietly. "Very eloquent, Potter," he parrots to Draco.

Draco huffs with amusement and gracelessly slides off of Harry to land against his side, easing his weight off Harry. He huffs and pulls the other man to his chest, wrapping his arms loosely across Harry's back and arse. "Shut up." He smiles and kisses Harry deeply before pulling back slightly. "Its not my fault you've rubbed off on me," he mumbles against Harry's lips before letting his eyes slide closed.

He feels Harry laugh and his breathing settle into a calm, steady rhythm of sleep. He squeezes Harry tightly before getting comfortable and allowing sleep to take him, not even caring they've both passed out without cleaning up first.

 

...oOo...

The next morning Draco wakes up sticky, a bit sore, and alone. He grimaces at the dried come sticking to him in very uncomfortable places and frowns as he cocks an ear to the bathroom. He doesn't hear anything.

Slowly he turns his head and glances at the Muggle clock Harry has placed on the bedside table and nearly gapes when he realizes its almost noon. With a curse, Draco carefully climbs out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom to take a shower. He grumbles under his breath when he washes alone, secretly hoping Harry would've 'surprised' him by joining him.

Washed, dressed and fairly free of a headache thanks to a headache Potion, Draco follows his nose to the kitchen. Coffee. A smile blooms on his face as he pushes the door open. Harry is at the small table, a plate loaded with bacon and eggs in front of him and a large coffee cup still steaming in front of him. Harry looks up when he enters and is immediately up with a smile and in the blonde's arms a moment later.

"Morning, love," Harry whispers against Draco's lips as pulls away just enough to be understood. "Coffee is ready. Toast?" He pulls away slightly, a hopeful expression on his face.

He wants to nag and force Draco to eat but the tantrum, pouting and possible fight just isn't worth it. He's learned that more Slytherin tactics work best. So far, his earnest, guilt inducing looks work out the best.

Draco smiles and nods, settling into the chair next to Harry's. Harry sets a coffee mug in front of him, already having added the cream and sugar, and a plate with two pieces of dry toast. He gratefully takes a sip of the coffee and moans softly.

"I can't believe I went so long without coffee." He looks down at the mug with a mock serious expression on his face. "I love you," he intones meaningfully to the mug and wraps both hands around the warm ceramic. He steals a piece of bacon from Harry, missing the pleased expression that flits over Harry's face that is quickly hidden by Harry's own large mug, munching the stolen bacon with quick little nibbles before licking his fingers.

Harry laughs and slaps Draco's arm lightly. "Oh very funny. I see where I rank. Too bad you can't shag coffee..." His face clears suddenly and he almost looks apologetic. "Sorry I didn't wake you sooner. I know you don't like to 'waste the day sleeping'--" He grins and makes air quotes as he mimics Draco's tone, "But you looked so peaceful and well," he shrugs, "I think you needed it."

It was getting more and more common for Draco to sleep badly, or not at all. He just couldn't bring himself to disturb the blonde earlier, no matter the consequences. He'd take a pouting Draco over a cranky one any day. He clears his throat softly and smiles again.

"Webb's owl arrived about an hour ago. We've got the list of Muggle drugs, so we can head out and get those today if you want." He reaches over and takes Draco's free hand, silently hoping the blonde will agree but unwilling to push.

Draco nods and takes another sip of coffee before answering. "Of course. We'll head out as soon as we're done." He smiles and warmth floods through him when Harry beams back at him, squeezing his hand tightly for a second. "Do we know what these Muggle drugs are for or what they do?" he asks after nibbling on his toast, silently wondering if he's up to marmalade today.

He eyes the jar by the center of the table and reaches for it with a shrug. He winks when Harry smiles brightly at him again and focuses on his task of spreading the marmalade while Harry thinks. Well, if the near constant twitching and fidgeting could be called thinking.

Harry scratches the back of his head a moment. "Erm, not really. 'Mione said the one is a pain reliever. Apparently more potent than any potion, which I still find hard to believe."

Hermione had made the pills sound like a step down from an illegal substance. Or a bloody miracle. He had heard the unspoken 'only given to terminal patients' in everything Hermione had said about the Muggle drugs and wanted to cry but he is willing to try them if they'd help. It isn't hard to see that Draco is starting to feel pain more frequently.

"There's another one that's supposed to help with one of the potions for the... the tumor shrinkage." Harry pauses a moment, blinking the prickling sensation from his eyes before he shakes his head lightly and continues. "I'm not sure about the others. 'Mione can tell us, though," he murmurs.

He sorts through the small papers that came with the owl. Prescriptions. There are several of them but dated in such a way they can only fill two at a time, a few weeks apart. The untidy scrawl is impossible to read and he nibbles his top lip hoping there won't be any problems getting them filled. Maybe it's some kind of strange Healer code or language?

Draco nods, absently brushing crumbs into a neat line on the table with the side of his hand before sweeping them onto his plate. "Alright. I suppose it doesn't really matter what they do. I'll take them regardless."

Harry smiles softly and squeezes his hand. "Still, it's good to know what you're taking. I'll floo 'Mione." He leans forward and kisses Draco. He reluctantly pulls back and excuses himself from the kitchen and makes his way into the parlor.

Draco just sits, sipping his coffee and pondering whether he should join him or not.

Harry seemed to just take care of all the details, a self-appointed job he takes quite seriously. He had no cause to doubt Harry's or Hermione's knowledge in the matter. Would Harry be upset if he didn't become more involved or is he happy to be able to tackle it alone, feeling like he was doing something? He doesn't know and he tells himself to ask so Harry doesn't misinterpret his actions.

He has learned, finally, how insecure Harry can still be and how easily he can misread the simplest (well, simple to him) of things. He makes less mistakes now that he knows more about Harry's childhood and such but he still, on occasion, will do or say something innocent and upset Harry. It never fails to make him feel like an utter bastard, either.

Just as Draco decides to join Harry, he comes back in the kitchen with a small piece of parchment clutched in his hand. "Alright, what I said for the others was right and the last one is some sort of experimental medication for--" Harry pauses and clears his throat, "For nausea."

Draco silently reaches out and takes Harry's hand, with the parchment in it still. "Alright. Lets get to Gringott's first so we can get lots of Muggle money. We're having dinner out, alright?" He pulls Harry down and kisses him softly. "Love, please don't torture yourself," he says softly, having a good idea of what's going on in his head.

He rests his forehead against Harry's. "One day at a time, yeah?" he murmurs, gently stroking a hand through Harry's hair and down the back of his head to cup his neck. He doesn't admit he had seen the phrase on some Muggle religious building. At the time he didn't understand the sentiment ( _of course_ you take days one at a time) but now he does. Now he _gets_ it.

Harry smiles and kisses Draco soundly. "Yeah, alright," he mutters. "Finish your toast and we'll get going." He grins and promptly leaves the kitchen again, hoping Draco will take more of his bacon if he thinks he's sneaking it.

 

...oOo...

A few weeks go by before Harry is sick and tired of being ignored by Healer Webb. He floos Hermione and as soon as she allows him to come through, he storms into her parlor.

"'Mione!" Harry starts to pace in front of the small sofa she's flopped onto. "I haven't heard from Webb since we got Draco's first round of potions. I know I was very specific in getting updates _weekly_." He stops and glares at the witch, as if she's at fault. She isn't, but she's the only one in front of him at the moment.

Hermione raises her hands and shakes her head, "Harry, calm down. There's no reason for weekly updates. Unless he's low on potions or his Muggle medications, there's really no need to be in contact with Healer Webb if Draco is doing fine." She wants to ask if Harry is worried because Draco _isn't_ doing fine but restrains herself. Harry would be a lot less coherent if that was the case.

Harry stares at her a moment before a tired, but sheepish, smile creeps onto his face and he settles onto the sofa next to her with a graceless flop. "I know, 'Mione," he sighs and absently rubs his temple.

Draco is responding surprisingly well to the muggle medications, but only the pain relievers. He had only taken one and Harry had been torn between amusement and concern at his spacy, goofed out reaction to the medication. They had both agreed to save them for the more intense pains, even though Harry was less then thrilled with the plan; he hated Draco being in _any_ pain.

Harry sounds so lost and miserable, Hermione takes his hand and leans against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harry. I can't imagine what you both are going through. But you have to believe me when I tell you he's getting the best care and we're doing everything that we can. I'm one of his healers, do you think I'd let anything slide?" she asks, trying to sound stern, but she's smiling anyway and Harry smiles as well when he can hear it.

"No, 'Mione," Harry says, sounding like he's dutifully repeating a well learned phrase. "It's just so bloody frustrating," he says and sighs loudly as he leans his head back against the cushion and closes his eyes. "I'm so fucking scared, I don't want to lose him but there's not a bloody thing I can do about it."

He doesn't notice the tear that has escaped his lashes, but Hermione does and her heart breaks for her friend.

"Harry," she murmurs. "how are you doing otherwise?" He looks pale and tired, not that she's surprised, but she's not seen him so since school. Thankfully, not as bad or he'd be in St. Mungo's faster than he could say 'But 'Mione!'. Her brow creases with worry as she looks Harry over carefully, her sharp eye assessing as a Healer and not as a best friend.

Harry snorts. "I'm just taking one day at a time." He slowly raises his head and looks at Hermione, "I'm not sleeping well unless Draco is there." He doesn't have to mention to Hermione that Draco is only there a few nights a week, between some of the experimental treatments and the git still taking the occasional client that require him to stay in hotels. He doesn't know how his husband can stand being in meetings for _hours_. "I eat when I can..." he trails off when he notices the witch looking at him critically.

Hermione is immediately suspicious. "And?" she asks, a more harshly than she means to. "Harry? Are you at least eating properly?" Harry looks away and she wants to scream at the man. She settles on giving him a stern look.

"Yes," he mumbles and looks away. "I don't keep it down often, though. If I'm not nauseous, weird smells make me want to throw up," he grouses and rubs a hand over his stomach. He takes a moment to mourn the loss of being able to enjoy the lovely smell of coffee and pancakes. He hopes it doesn't last much longer.

Hermione blinks a moment. "What?" After a thoughtful pause, she asks "For how long?" She watches as Harry absently rubs his chest and wince slightly as his hand passes over a painfully peaked nipple.

"Dunno." Harry shrugs and stares off a moment. "I do eat, though. Like I said." He stares off again, lost in thought. "I don't know how long, really. Maybe a just few weeks or so." He shrugs again, unconcerned.

He rarely had a large appetite to begin with but the frequent vomiting is slightly worrisome but he doesn't want Hermione to worry about him. He would prefer she remains focused on Draco. A stomach bug will pass.

Hermione's eyes go wide and nearly bug out of her skull and she gets up hastily and leaves the room in a flurry of robes.

Harry just blinks after her. "'Mione? Where are you going?" He hears her yell something about her wand and he settles back down in the sofa again.

He raises an eyebrow when he notices a steaming mug of tea sitting on the table in front of him and gratefully takes a few sips. He didn't even realize his stomach was feeling so unsettled until he relaxes and the tea eases it somewhat. He looks around, hoping for some biscuits.

Hermione rushes back in the room, wand held out and her cheeks flushed. She is holding a thick, old looking book and her eyes are quickly scanning the page as she mutters something in Latin to herself. "Alright," she looks up at Harry after a few moments and gently takes the tea from his hands and sets it on the table. "It's a good thing you're sitting. I, erm, want to see something. Is it alright if I run a test or two on you?" She bites her lip when Harry raises an eyebrow at her. It's rather annoying to have to look up any sort of medical spell; she's a fully trained healer, for Merlin's sake! Even if this isn't her area of expertise... she should know it.

"Sure, 'Mione. You know you don't even have to ask." Harry settles himself comfortably on the sofa and waves his hand at her. "Ready when you are."

"Harry," Hermione cocks a hip and rests a fist on it. "I _do_ have to ask. Anyone should ask. It's _rude_ to just point your wand at someone," she says archly. Rude and rather dangerous. Stupid, as well, really.

She purses her lips and checks the book a moment before she swishes her wand at Harry and murmurs quietly. A warm green light bursts from her wand and circles Harry's chest and abdomen before it glows a soft yellow and dissipates. She does it twice more--with the same results.

Harry looks up from the fading yellow to see Hermione staring at him looking absolutely gobsmacked. "What?" he asks, a tinge of worry in his voice. "'Mione?"

"Oh, Harry," she breathes, "I-- You're-- Oh, Merlin. How can I--?  _Merlin_!" She gapes at him for a long moment and just as Harry is about to launch himself off the sofa at her, she sees the distress on his face and wants to slap herself for her reaction. Of course the man would be freaking out. "I'm sorry, Harry! I didn't mean to worry you. It's alright! You're pregnant." She smiles at the dark haired man.

Harry sits in stunned silence for a long moment. "I'm what? No. That's not-- _What_?" he asks weakly and looks down at his flat stomach with wide eyes.

Hermione nods and sits down next to him, showing him the book she'd brought with her. "You are pregnant, Harry. It's true. See?" She's pointing to the book (the illustrations clearly show the meanings of the various colors from the test she performed) but Harry is staring at her, slack jawed. She wants to giggle and poke at him, needing some sort of reaction.

A warm, squirmy feeling is working through Harry's chest and stomach as the news settles in. Things click into place and he realizes how stupid he had been to not realize sooner. Well, maybe not stupid... it wouldn't have _ever_ been his first thought.

He nearly cries, overwhelmed with the sheer surprised joy of it. "But, how?" he stammers.

Hermione can't help but laugh and grin at him. "I'm sure you know _how_ , Harry."

"Mhm." Harry smirks for a moment and shakes his head. "No, no, I mean. How? We haven't--" His eyes go wide as he looks at the book finally.

There are pictures of pregnant men. Illustrations showing diagrams and all sorts of horribly detailed things that will happen to his body. He isn't completely ignorant to the strange fact that wizards can get pregnant. He's quite proud of himself for taking the initiative years ago to learn more about the Wizarding world and even pure-blood culture.

No, he's shocked because they haven't been careless; they haven't planned this. They did contraceptive charms regularly, for Merlin's sake.

"Oh," he mumbles, his cheeks pinking and he suddenly feels rather foolish. Draco didn't use magic much anymore unless it was important and he isn't nearly as attentive to such things. He didn't even know half of the one's Draco used since he hardly did the charms on himself, usually relying on Draco to do it. He groans softly.

The joy hasn't diminished (there's no way he'd ever regret something like this) but he's feeling rather sheepish at his carelessness.

Hermione smiles and shakes her head at him. Obviously it is unplanned. She looks down at the book and clicks her tongue. "It takes a quite a powerful wizard to conceive and to impregnate another wizard. Not to mention compatible magic. So really, it's only natural that you would get pregnant at some point, Harry. I mean, its _you_ and _Draco_. Perfect really. I'm mostly surprised you haven't before now," she says, mental images of numerous times 'catching' the wizards going at it (in various stages) flashing through her mind.

She stops and takes a breath, finally noticing Harry's wet, wide eyes. "Oh, Harry," she breathes, reality hitting her. "I'm sorry. I can only imagine how big a shock this is."

Harry is staring at her again, an unreadable expression on his face. "Oh fuck," he finally whispers in a soft, choked voice as reality intrudes on his joyous thoughts. "'Mione, I can't believe this."

Harry's shoulders start to shake and Hermione can only bring her friend to her chest, wrap her arms around him and comfort him as best she can.

"This is so fucked up," he mumbles against her shoulder. "I'm finally able to have a family, but--" His words cut off with a choked sob. "Oh, Merlin, Draco!" He bolts upright and looks around wildly. "I have to tell Draco! Draco." His chest hitches and he drops back to Hermione's shoulder with a pained sob. "Oh, 'Mione. How is this fair?"

Hermione can only sigh and rub soothing circles on his back. It's _not_ fair. She wants to rage at someone--anyone--for Harry. For Draco. It's not fair the blonde is getting taken away from Harry, and now he's being taken from his unborn child. She tucks Harry's messy head under her chin as she holds him and murmurs soothing words until Harry's sobs are down to gut wrenching gasps and sniffles.

Carefully she leans back and smiles softly at Harry, "Tell him he'll have a daughter. He'll get to see her, Harry. I'll make sure of it." She folds Harry close again and barely hears his whispered 'A daughter' before he's overcome with tears again.

After a few moments, Harry leans back with a wet sniffle, wiping his eyes and smiling sheepishly at Hermione as he cries to control the gasps and erratic breathing. "I'm sorry to blubber all over you, 'Mione."

Hermione waves a hand absently and scoffs. "Please. Don't be. This is a lot to take in, Harry. I don't mind." She adds seriously with a fond smile. "That's what friends are for." She hands him a tissue and gives him a moment to compose himself. "Really, don't feel like you have to keep anything in or be strong. You're allowed to be human, alright?" She chucks his chin lightly and smiles, relieved to see a tiny smile pull at the corner of Harry's lips.

"Well, it's past my bedtime. You need to take that book--" She points to the large, dusty tome, "And go home. Read it. I'll help, of course, but you should know what to expect."

She carefully closes the book and hands it to Harry before she gets up. Harry rises too, almost robotically, and makes his way over to the floo. "Congratulations, Harry. I know it's not the ideal situation but I can't tell you how happy I am for you. And Draco." She smiles and hugs him for a long moment, rubbing his back gently. "Don't think too far ahead on this, alright?" She's pleased to feel him nod.

Hermione gives him one last hug before stepping back and watching as he tosses in some floo powder and disappears.

 

...oOo...

Harry spends the next hour staring at the large, old, dusty and still closed book. As soon as he got home he put it down (glaring at it the whole time) on the bed and hasn't worked up the courage to open it yet. It was one thing to know something but quite another to have hard facts (and scary, detailed, realistic pictures) spread out in front of your face demandingly. So much for Gryffindor courage, he scoffs. Distantly he hears a clock somewhere in the quiet house bong the hour.

Shit.

Draco is due home any moment and Harry isn't sure he can even pick the damn book up even to hide it. Merlin, he's such a baby...

The choice is made for him as Draco saunters through the bedroom door a moment later, headed straight for him. Draco doesn't even say hello before he's got the dark haired man wrapped firmly in his arms, their lips attached and moving together. He doesn't mind. He happily kisses Draco back, practically devouring him. He hears Draco make a pleased, humming sound in the back of his throat and hands are on his arse and in his hair a second later.

Draco smiles against Harry's lips and hums happily. "Hi," he murmurs as he pulls back slightly, nipping and pecking at Harry's slightly puffed lips.

"Hi," Harry answers. He lets his lips trail down the strong jawline before he latches on to the soft skin below Draco's ear. The blonde moans softly and squeezes him tightly.

"Miss me?" Draco breathes. He can feel Harry nod against his neck before he feels agile fingers popping the top two buttons of his shirt, sliding the fabric to the side and then teeth nipping along his neck and down to his collarbone. He gasps softly and clutches at Harry's arse. "Good, I missed you. I thought you'd like to know today was my last day."

Harry pauses and rears back, his eyes wide. "What? Why? I thought-" he sputters but he's starting to smile, thoroughly pleased with the news. No more nights sleeping alone, no more worrying if Draco is going to feel weak or woozy when he isn't there. He did trust Blaise and Stella (Draco's assistant) to keep the blonde safe at work, but even they couldn't always watch over his stubborn husband.

Draco shushes him with his lips, smiling against them. He had made his plans for the company the week after his diagnosis and only now felt he could step away. He trusted Blaise with his life so why not the family business? "I didn't want to waste any of my time. I want to be with you." He smiles but wants to kick himself when he sees Harry's face fall slightly at the reminder. "Shhh. Don't think about that right now," he gently kisses Harry again, feeling like an arse for being the one to bring it up. "Just think of it as early retirement, yeah?" He grins at Harry and is relieved when he smiles back, even if it is rather watery and pained.

"Alright," Harry answers softly. His eyes dart to the book on the bed before they land on Draco again. "I, uhm, found out something today. I stopped by 'Mione's today."

Draco laughs and places a noisy kiss on Harry's neck, nipping him. "Stop pestering the woman. She'll let us know if Webb has any updates."

Harry scoffs and playfully shoves the blonde away from his neck. Oh-so-clever git thinks he knows everything... "Oh shut up. Well, anyway, uhm. She told me something. And. Well. It's quite shocking." His eyes are wide again and Draco can only stand and wait for the man to spit it out. "I didn't even know this sort of thing would happen. I mean, who knew? I didn't. Well, I knew it _could_ happen. Just not now, or you know-"

"Harry! For fuck's sake. Spit it out!"

Harry swallows thickly and nods. "Yeah. OK. Best to just get it out," at Draco's glare he swallows again and closes his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

There is no sound. Draco is standing there, staring slack jawed at his husband. Harry's eyes are still closed and he's almost angry the Gryffindor isn't looking at him. "Harry," he whispers, "Open your eyes, dammit." He's immediately assaulted with Harry's bright verdant gaze, which widens as he sees Draco's expression. The blonde is smiling, his eyes nearly glowing silver as he looks at Harry before wrapping him in a tight embrace again. "I know, the timing is fucking terrible but I can't tell you how thrilled I am," he murmurs into Harry's neck. He noisily kisses a line up to Harry's forehead, down his nose, across his cheeks before landing softly on his lips. He burrows his face in Harry's neck again, blinking rapidly and feeling absolutely stunned breathless.

Harry's eyes are bright with tears again and he's glad Draco can't see him. "I was so shocked I nearly fainted and pissed myself."

Draco snorts a laugh, quickly leans back and looks at Harry before he gently holds his face in his hands. "This is wonderful news," he stresses, perfectly aware of Harry's lingering insecurity and doubts. He'd rather it happened earlier but they had only spoken of a family in the abstract, using terms like 'someday' and 'later'. He hates that those words are pretty much taunts now. He wants to cry at the unfairness of the timing but he's too full of happiness at the moment. He grins wickedly as his thumbs stroke along Harry's cheekbones, his grin melting into a warm smile as he gazes at Harry.

"Of course, it would figure it would happen when I leave the charms to you. Otherwise, it was really only just a matter of time." He had heard of many couples' contraceptive charms weakening the longer they were together, inexplicably loosing potency, increasing the chances for conception with each passing year. He always wondered if it was magic's natural way of ensuring pregnancy no matter what a wizard or witch did, short of using Muggle means or abstinence.

Harry wants to smack the blonde but he settles for thumping a hand against his chest. "That's what 'Mione said!" he says indignantly, wondering why they both felt the need to pester him. "I'm so happy but at the same time-" he breaks off with a sad shake of his head. He quickly lays his hands over Draco's hands on his face and squeezes them tightly. "I wish this happened sooner too," he finishes quietly. "Oh," he jerks his head towards the bed, "Hermione gave me a big old nasty, dusty book that's going to fucking terrify me." He glares at the large book, as if its offended him. He knew the general idea but this... this is a lot of graphic knowledge.

"Aw," Draco laughs and folds Harry to him again, "Don't be such a baby. I'll be here," he murmurs quietly and kisses the top of Harry's head. "And Hermione will of course be practically glued to you, I'm sure." He glances at the large book a moment before looking back to Harry, his gaze sliding down to rest on Harry's belly. "Did she- Was there- What's-" he trails off, worrying his lips as he tries to sort his thoughts out.

Harry smiles and nods, knowing exactly what's on Draco's mind. "Yeah, a girl." He beams when he sees Draco's eyes glisten and a smile spread across his face. "I don't care, personally," he says softly and chews his lip a moment, waiting to see what Draco says. He's not so sure he could raise a girl (honestly, what does he know about _girls_ ) but he isn't the least bit disappointed or let down there won't be a male heir. Girls could do that, too, right?

Draco nods, "No, I don't really either." He squeezes Harry tightly. "Merlin, I can't believe this. Harry, this is amazing. I'm so happy." He gently kisses Harry, his hands slowly sliding along his back and sides. "Please, read that damn book so I don't have to," he says, smacking Harry lightly on the arse. He smirks when Harry makes an indignant noise.

 

...oOo...

Another few weeks go by with Draco taking his potions. He is having to take the potions more frequently, just like that toad Webb had warned. He can't keep it from Harry, of course, and he curses himself for the expression that crossed his face when Draco downed the third potion in as many weeks. "Maybe it's time for the pills," Draco muses aloud, staring at the strange amber container. He had only taken two so far, still surprised at the medicine contained in the small, oval shaped pills. They are indeed powerful.

"Maybe," Harry says and bites his lip thoughtfully. Draco's potions are lasting about as long as they should, according to Hermione's research. He's not _that_ worried, but it's still disheartening to see the vials depleting. "Half?" he asks, remembering the spacey reaction Draco had to a whole pill. Hermione said the pills could be halved if needed.

Draco nods and easily snaps the pill on the scored line. He huffs with reluctant respect to the clever design and swallows the pill with mouthful of water and a grimace. "So, are you going to owl Neville?" he asks, flicking the newspaper straight and raising it so Harry can't see the smirk on his face.

"Uhm, no. Well, I did but it was a work request," Harry stammers, feeling a blush on his cheeks. Damn that Draco!

Draco lowers the page slowly. "For what?" he asks.

"Reduced hours," Harry says with a shrug. He is still having a hard time with various smells, and working in Neville's shop is torture some days. He never thought the smell of flowers would make him so nauseous. He blushes when he realizes he hadn't said why he wanted reduced hours, just the request. He couldn't lie should Neville ask about it and he's reluctant to share the news just yet. Even with him.

Draco brings the paper back up, flicking it straight, and hides a smile. "Ah, well..." he trails off, making a mental note to owl or floo Neville himself. He respects Harry's opinion on the matter but he isn't giving up. Even if Neville only fulfills the role of a friend, he intends to make sure it happens. He lowers the paper and lets it fall to the floor. "Let's go get lunch?" he asks suddenly, surprising Harry.

Harry blinks for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure... I gotta change," he murmurs and hurries to their room, peeking over his shoulder and wondering at a smug looking Draco.

They wander the streets, holding hands and just enjoying the warm day. Harry isn't at all paying attention to their destination, happy to just let Draco lead him since he doesn't care where they eat, and gulps when they step in front of Neville's shop. He glares at Draco, trying to ignore the smug smile on his husband's face as he reaches past Harry to open the door. Harry immediately holds his breath as he walks in the shop.

"Harry!" Neville greets happily, peeking up over a large frilly green potted plant when the bell tinkles merrily over the door. He blinks when he sees Draco and flushes, still unsure how to greet the man. "Uhm. Hi, Malfoy."

"Neville," Draco drawls smoothly, enjoying the way the other man's cheeks pink. He winks at Harry's incredulous expression. "How're things?"

Neville blinks and nearly snips his own fingertip off. "Good. Good. Fine," he sputters, completely thrown by Draco's genial attitude. The last time he had seen the blonde, he had threatened to hex his bits off. He jerkily turns to Harry, "I got your owl. I can reduce your hours... we've finally got another pair of hands and it's not as busy this time of year," he assures Harry, itching to ask the reason behind the change. He thought Harry enjoyed working here with him and he's quite sad to see even less of his friend. He slowly frowns, noticing that Harry's face looks pinched and he's pale, almost green. "Are you alright?"

Harry nods and steps back towards the door, propping it open and taking great gulps of fresh air. His stomach finally settles and he smiles sheepishly at Neville. "I'm fine. And thanks, Nev."

"Sure, not a problem Harry," Neville says with a warm smile. He slowly looks to Draco, expecting a scowl and blinks at the returning smile on the blonde's face. "Erm," he says and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. What a strange morning.

Draco eyes Harry, noting his color pinking a bit. "We're about to head to lunch. Join us," he offers, his tone firm. He's not asking, he's blatantly telling the other man to come and by the wide-eyed look Neville gives him, he knows Neville understands.

"Yeah, sure. Why not," Neville says with a nervous chuckle. He swiftly turns and grabs his wand from the shelf he was installing. "Let's go," he says, following the pair out of the door. He waves his wand at the door, turning the sign to 'Closed' and bringing the wards up to lock. "Where to?" he asks quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks between a stunned Harry and a smugly smiling Draco.

Draco takes Harry's hand again, brushing a kiss along his knuckles. "Where do you want to go, love?" he asks, looking at Harry. He's still learning what turns Harry's stomach and what he stuffs in his mouth like a starving hippogriff. Thankfully his aversion to bacon lasted only a week.

"Uhm, that Italian place?" Harry asks, batting his eyelashes at Draco coyly. He knows Draco doesn't like Muggle restaurants but he really _really_ wants lasagna and tiramisu. Wizarding restaurants, if they even attempted the dishes, mess it up by making it fizz or turn colors.

Draco chuckles and wraps an arm around Harry's waist. "Of course, love," he easily agrees and kisses Harry's temple. "That alright with you?" he asks Neville, leaning around Harry to address the other man, smiling politely.

"Yeah, sure. I haven't had decent Fettuccine in forever," Neville replies with a grin. He easily falls into step beside Harry as they walk the few blocks to the restaurant. He glances at Harry occasionally, stealing glances from the corner of his eye. He had been surprised to get the owl earlier, and even more surprised at the request. He knows Harry doesn't need the money but he's still curious why he wanted less hours. He's even more curious about the change in Draco. He had only recently heard about the diagnosis from Harry (and he had nearly burst something to keep from hugging Harry tightly when he had found out) and he isn't sure if that is the reason for the change. He had rarely seen a smile, that isn't directed at Harry, on Draco's face. He is rather surprised to find the sight appealing and wishes to see it more often, it makes him look much more approachable. And handsome, he admits only to himself.

As they walk into the restaurant, Neville chuckles when Harry inhales deeply and moans softly as his eyes flicker shut. He looks at Draco and completely agrees with the blonde's heated look being directed at Harry. Even a moan over food sounds like pure sin. Luckily, they're seated quickly and he hides behind the menu for a moment trying to compose himself. He glances up at Draco, blinking at the completely besotted look on the blonde's face. Harry is engrossed in the menu, but he sees a small smile creep onto Harry's face as he holds his hand out for Draco to grab.

"So," Draco says and smiles a little when Neville jumps. "How've you been, Neville?" he asks, sincerity in his voice. He's already quite comfortable addressing the other man by his first name and he hopes Neville gets used to it shortly; he's not sure how long he can take the dubious looks and jumpy reactions without snarking at the other man.

Neville blinks and gives a small smile. "Erm, good, good. The shop is doing very well. I've finally got Gran situated at that Aging Wizarding Home..." he trails off uncertainly. He didn't have much else going on and he wants to groan with misery. He's quite pathetic and he fully expects Draco to point it out.

"Why did you send your Gran there?" Harry asks, crunching an ice cube between his teeth. He's starving! Where the hell was their server?

Neville shrugs helplessly. "She's been having some issues," he says quietly. "But she's not ill enough for St. Mungo's. Dean opened the place about a year ago, said it was an idea he got from Muggles," he adds. St. Mungo's only accepted ill people, whether health or mental illness. His gran didn't fall into either catagory. He understood, but it had been frustrating. "I personally find it a great place. Gran's looked after and I can visit whenever I feel like it." He is even contemplating getting her a cat to keep her company. His gran has developed a sudden affection for the furry beasts.

Draco nods slowly, surprisingly keen on the concept and once again surprised by something Muggle. He shouldn't be; Blaise had told him years ago about the merits of Muggle business and he's grown ridiculously wealthy from that advice. He's about to ask for more details when the waitress pops up at his elbow with a perky greeting. He chuckles when Harry hurriedly orders an antipasto appetizer and a large piece of tiramisu, barely giving the woman a chance to finish greeting them. The waitress turns to ask the rest of the table and Harry pouts adorably.

"I wasn't done," Harry says, tapping the girl's elbow gently. The waitress turns back to Harry with an apologetic smile, her pen again poised over her pad. "Lasagna and a small portion of spaghetti with meatballs, too, please," he adds, smiling and looking across to Neville so he can order next. Hopefully quickly. The sooner they order, the sooner the woman can leave and get their food.

"Alright," the waitress chirps, turning slowly to Draco and then Neville, getting their orders. At Harry's impatient gaze she grins, "And I'll bring some garlic knots over, right away," she promises, smiling at Harry's happy smile. Poor guy must be starving. She laments the dark haired man's metabolism -he was so trim!- as she hurries off to get the garlic bread before the poor man ate the centerpiece.

Draco chuckles as he grabs Harry's hand and places a row of kisses along his knuckles. "Hungry, love?"

"Uhm," Harry again pouts adorably as his cheeks pink slightly. "Yeah, a little..."

Draco kisses his knuckles again before running his thumb along them in a soothing motion. "Good," he murmurs with a wink. He chuckles again when Harry practically dives on the garlic knots, the basket barely hitting the table before he pulls one out and stuffs it in his mouth with a sighing moan. He chews it quickly and inhales a second one before looking up and blushing as he realizes he's being stared at.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville asks, watching Harry curiously.

Harry swallows the bread and washes it down with his water before answering, leaning forward slightly so he doesn't have to speak very loud. "I'm fine, Nev." He makes a quick decision and looks around warily before lowering his voice even more, barely audible to Neville. "I'm pregnant," he whispers. He can't help the big, pleased smile that grows on his face.

Neville blinks for a moment before grinning back, squeezing Harry's unoccupied hand on the table. He leans over and awkwardly pats Draco lightly on the shoulder. "Congratulations," he says happily before his smile dims a bit and he looks to Draco with something akin to horror. "Oh bollocks," he whispers sadly. He blinks a few times and his stomach tightens.

"It's fine, well... not fine, but we're happy about it," Draco answers, a small smile on his face. "Naturally, you'll keep this to yourself?"

Neville nods emphatically. "Oh, of course." He doesn't mention that he doesn't really have anyone else to tell. Never one for gossip, but he doesn't have many people that he speaks to regularly these days. Even if he did he'd guard Harry's news. He smiles at Harry, truly pleased for his friend's joy even as it makes his heart hurt to know the couple had a limited time to be a proper family.

"Mmm." Harry bounces lightly in his seat when his antipasto is placed in front of him. "Where's my tiramisu?" he asks with a sad pout as he looks up at the waitress with soulful green eyes. He really wanted to see how the olives would taste with the sweetened mascarpone in them.

Draco snorts with amusement when the poor waitress melts visibly and coos at Harry.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry! I thought you wanted it after!" she says apologetically, having no idea why she's reacting this way but the poor man just looks so adorable. Her hands flap a bit, unsure if she should hurry off or try to comfort. She can understand wanting dessert first, though.

Harry looks down at the plate and nods. "Oh," Harry says with a sigh and eagerly starts on his appetizer. "Alright, I can wait until after."

"Oh, good," the waitress chirps, relieved. "It has to thaw a bit, anyways," with that she flits away with a promise to top off their drinks.

Neville chuckles, having watched the exchange. "Merlin, Harry," he laughs, holding his stomach. "You're dangerous, mate." He hadn't ever seen Harry pout and pull out a puppy-eyed look before and he's quite sure it would get him out of any problem.

"What?" Harry asks innocently, chewing rapidly. He hums happily as he pops a piece of provolone wrapped with an anchovy in his mouth.

Draco and Neville share a look, amusing them both a moment later. "Nothing," Neville says, waving his hand at a thoroughly engrossed Harry. He's not surprised when Harry is wiping oil off of the empty plate with a piece of bread moments later. "So is that why you reduced your hours?"

"Yes," Harry says, looking up and nods slowly. "That and... well, I'd like to spend more time at home," 'with Draco', he doesn't add but it's clearly implied. "Plus, I really can't be in there for long without wanting to lose my lunch. I hope it won't be an imposition..."

Neville shakes head and smiles at Harry. "Not at all, Harry." At Harry's returning smile, he looks down and rearranges his silverware to keep himself from reacting inappropriately.

"Oh, shit," Harry mutters and squirms in his seat. "If she comes with my lasagna, cover it!" he instructs and hops up from the table, making his way quickly towards the bathroom.

Neville watches Harry leave. "Is he OK?" he asks anxiously.

"Yeah, just... you know," Draco says, waving a hand vaguely. He doesn't want to go into pregnancy side-effects and thankfully Neville looks just as interested in hearing about pregnancy side-effects. He looks steadily at Neville, easily gaining his attention with a firm gaze. "Look, I'm sorry I was such a bastard. I didn't mean to push you and Harry apart," he laughs and shakes his head. "Well, I did but it was a stupid thing to do."

Neville just nods, stunned to be getting what amounted to an honest and heart felt apology from the blonde. "Alright..."

"I don't wish for Harry to dwell on what might have been and miss out on your relationship," Draco adds, his eyes searching for a returning Harry. "Promise me you'll look after him?" he says earnestly, the hand resting on the table clenched tightly. He turns to regard Neville seriously, pleased by the Gryffindor trait of wearing one's emotions on their face when he sees Neville smile slightly and nod with determination.

Neville nod, a small, warm smile on his face. "Yes, of course I will," he agrees softly, realizing what the blonde is asking of him. He'd never abandon Harry (and now his child) and he's suddenly overcome that Draco would seek him out, trust him enough to ask such a thing. He could hug Draco for what he's doing but he settles on holding out his hand for a shake. Draco wraps his around his with a wry smile. "You've my word."

"Good, good. I also wish to... well, I suppose get along with you. I don't wish there to be friction between us. It'll just make things awkward and hard on Harry."

Neville nods eagerly, his eyes flicking to Harry as he heads back to the table. "Of course," he agrees again.

He's not sure what the glint in Draco's eye means, but he's sure he'll find out in time. He's just overjoyed to be close to Harry again. He's missed his friend, the scant hours they shared weekly in the shop weren't adequate at all. Their food comes and he stifles a laugh at Harry's wide-eyed joy. The waitress giggles and refills their basket with garlic knots before bouncing away again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few months are a bittersweet reminder to Harry and Draco that time is moving steadily forward, whether they want it to or not.

Draco's health steadily declines to the point where he's taking his potions every few days and the muggle pills (still only half, thank Merlin) almost daily. He doesn't complain though, since he's still able to function properly and he refuses to worry Harry unnecessarily. They make frequent, if not increasingly useless, trips to Healer Webb. Hermione visits often, both as a friend and a healer to both Harry and Draco.

"How are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asks, her hand resting lightly on Harry's growing bump. She smiles at the fluttering feeling against her palm; both the healer and friend sides of her pleased to see Harry's healthy nearly 5 month baby-bump.

Harry stifles a yawn, smiling as Hermione gets another kick against her palm. "Alright, I suppose," h says, finally giving a small yawn. He's starting to have trouble sleeping, trying to get comfortable and failing most nights since he prefers to sleep on his stomach. Adjusting to his side or back isn't going very well. Soon, his thoughts turn to Neville as they often do. They've reconnected and he's still excited and immensely pleased they've been able to. Even Draco is getting on with the other Gryffindor, even if it makes him a bit suspicious. "I'm not looking forward to tonight," he says sounding a little sad.

"What's tonight?" Hermione asks, slightly distracted by the many spells and charms she performs on Harry each time she makes a visit as his healer. As usual, the glows are a healthy yellow and the fuzzy ultra-sound like picture hovering over Harry's belly shows a healthy, growing baby girl. Also as usual, they share a happy, slightly teary smile as they look at the results. Occasionally, Draco is present and he no longer hides his own emotional response, but he does usually claim to be stoned to his eyeballs on the Muggle drugs.

Harry shifts to a more comfortable position on the chaise he's lounging on. "Supposed to have dinner and maybe a movie with Neville, but I don't think I'll be able to keep my eyes open," he says, stifling another small yawn. "Maybe he can go with Draco?" he mumbles absently, rubbing soft circles on his belly, soothing the slight chill the spells cause. He's so pleased Neville and Draco get along so well; he still gives a smug 'I told you so' to Draco whenever his husband voices his surprise of his genuine liking of Neville.

"Oh?" Hermione raises an eyebrow at the suggestion. "Are they getting along?"

"Yeah," Harry says with a smile and a nod. "They've only hung out on their own twice..." he chuckles. "Neither hexed the other and they actually seemed to get along quite nicely." He smiles again, remembering the first time he had talked Draco into going out with Neville without him. Draco had gaped adorably at him but gave in easily after he had promised many rewards for good behavior. Not surprising at all, Draco came home with a smile and claiming he had enjoyed himself before pouncing on Harry and collecting his rewards. He feels his cheeks warm with the memory and looks down for a moment to hide it from Hermione.

Hermione eyes Harry, trying not to worry or fret. "It doesn't... bother you they hang out without you?" she asks carefully, genuinely curious but not wanting to risk upsetting Harry. He's told her about Draco's unusual request and she isn't sure how to take the new information. 

"Why would I be bothered? It was my idea, 'Mione. I'm thrilled they're getting along," Harry says with a bright smile. The better Draco and Neville get along, the more time he can spend with his friend. He doesn't compromise the time he spends with Draco, easily bending to Draco's wishes the rare occasions they clash with his time with Neville. Neville's even been able to visit the house with no issues.

Hermione nods slowly. "Ah," she says, trying to sound neutral but still getting the feeling there's something going on. She knows it's not really her business but she can't help worrying about her friends. They both look up when Draco eases into the room, a smile on his face when he looks at Harry's still exposed belly. "Hi, Draco," she says brightly and gives a small wave to the frazzled looking blonde. She hides a smile as Draco runs a hand through his hair, taming the pale strands slightly as he approaches.

"Hello, Hermione. Everything well?" Draco asks, his eyes flicking between Harry's face and belly. He kneels with a brief wince and places his hands gently on Harry's belly before placing a soft kiss on the skin between his hands. He looks up excitedly, smiling at Harry with bright eyes, when he feels a nudge against his palms. He chuckles softly and rests his cheek against the bulge, turning so he's facing Hermione.

"Yes, everything is fine. How are you?" Hermione asks, her voice dropping slightly into what Draco calls her 'Healer Hermione' voice.

Draco sighs quietly and places another kiss on Harry's slightly rounded belly before giving Hermione his full attention. Apparently, it's not just a social call and he's not escaping without the prerequisite health questions being answered. "Alright, I suppose. Nothing's changed really since I saw you last week," he informs her honestly.

Hermione just hums, her wand now pointed at Draco as she performs the usual spells on him. She ignores Draco's eye roll but smiles when the blonde leans over Harry's prone form again, placing a soft kiss on Harry's belly. "Potions still effective?"

"Yes, Healer," Draco answers with a cheeky grin. He stands with another slight wince, leans over and pulls Harry to his feet, pushing him gently towards the bathroom once he's up. "Relax in a nice bath, love," he murmurs, subtly asking for privacy. He smiles when Harry just nods, places a quick kiss against his lips and disappears into the en suite. As soon as the door snicks closed, he turns to Hermione. "What happens when I have to take the potions daily?" he asks quietly, his eyes darting to the closed door.

Hermione blinks, unprepared for the question. "Well, according to any literature I've read, it'll cease to be effective shortly thereafter. Are you taking it daily?" she asks quietly. She hadn't noticed an increase in Draco's potion orders, but the blonde is perfectly capable of making his own potions still. She twiddles her wand between her fingers anxiously, hoping for an answer that won't make her want to break into unprofessional tears.

"No, no, I was only curious," Draco says, waving her concern off. "I feared that to be the case, though," he says softly and sits on the chaise Harry had vacated. "Is this... progressing too fast?" he asks, his head in his hands instead of looking at the witch. Every time he had to decrease the time between potions, he worried his disease was progressing faster then it should be and he wouldn't get his remaining months with Harry or see their daughter. A slick twist of his stomach has him breathing slowly though his nose.

Hermione stares at the bowed head and sighs inaudibly with relief. "No, not at all, Draco." She nibbles her bottom lip before settling down next to Draco. Slowly, she wraps an arm about his shoulders, slightly surprised to feel the man lean into the embrace instead of stiffening or shoving her away. "As you're aware, only the pain potions have been continued." Draco nods, well aware any 'curing' potions only caused horrible side-effects without helping his condition at all. "So, until they become ineffective, as well as the Muggle prescriptions, we won't worry about it until then. Most people would be taking the potions almost every other day by this point," she points out, trying not to sound hopeful but positive nonetheless.

Draco just nods, allowing Hermione to comfort him. Now that the answer isn't as horrible as he had expected, he can inform Harry, knowing his husband would ask. He swallows thickly, his throat working as he struggles to ask his next question. He has to take a few deeps breaths, and even then his voice is barely above a whisper; "So, I should be around... for..." he trails off, waving a hand helplessly towards the bathroom, indicating Harry and their child.

"Yes," Hermione says softly. "I can't make any guarantees, but I really think you'll see your daughter."

Draco nods again, finally losing his struggling emotions and allows a quiet sob to escape. Hermione is really the only other person he'd allow himself to behave like this in front of. He again allows the witch to comfort him, finding the soft embrace comforting as well as a bit... odd. "Thank you," he whispers, dabbing at his leaking eyes with the edge of his shirt. He snorts a laugh and shakes his head. "Did that git tell you what he wants to name our daughter?

"No," Hermione says with a small smile. Harry had only started talking about names last week but they had gotten side-tracked (with what, she can no longer remember) before he could share his thoughts on the matter. She has some ideas though...

Draco snorts another laugh, the sound dangerously close to a giggle. "Amanda!" he cries, throwing his hands up. "What sort of name is that?"

"I haven't a clue," Hermione says bemusedly. She smiles; it's a nice name, really. Simple and it would be hers alone. "I'm guessing you aren't in agreement..."

Draco gives her a pointed look and scoffs. "Not at all. I was honestly expecting him to recommend Lily -which I could handle- but Amanda? I just don't understand it." He sighs and rubs his eyes. "As much as I don't agree, I can't stand to argue about it," he says quietly, dropping his hand limply into his lap. He has no issues with Harry's suggestion of Jean as a middle name, pleased and in agreement that it would be an honor for her to share a middle name with Hermione. They also both agreed to ask her to be the godmother.

Hermione smiles and bumps Draco's shoulder with hers. "So don't argue. Ask why he likes it and go from there."

"Alright, sounds reasonable enough," Draco nods easily. He grins, a slow pleased smile. "I'll just have to see what Neville thinks on the matter as well."

Hermione blinks, surprised at the pleased tone and happy expression on the blonde's face. It's nice to see the blonde smile but strikes her as odd to know it's connected to Neville. Even after what Harry said, but seeing it, is believing it. "I suppose..." she trails off for a moment, giving Draco a measuring look. "You're getting along nicely with Neville."

"Mhm," Draco nods, wiping his eyes again and sniffing lightly. "Quite the surprise, I know," he chuckles and turns to look at Hermione. "Go ahead and ask, I know you want to," he says with a smirk.

Hermione rolls her eyes and shoves the blonde lightly. "I have nothing to ask."

"Liar. I could see it practically written on your face the moment I walked in here."

Hermione huffs and pushes the hair away from her temples with her palms. " _Fine_. What's going on there?"

"Nothing," Draco says with a shrug and another smirk. "We're friends now and getting along splendidly. Harry's quite pleased, you know."

Hermione fights the urge to roll her eyes. "I know that," she says. "I mean, is there some underlying reason for it?"

"Not really," Draco says honestly. "Harry missed his friend, so I just wanted to get along so it wouldn't stress Harry out. It's a genuinely pleasant surprise to find I actually like the man." He pauses and nibbles his bottom lip for a moment. "Would it be strange if I confess that there _might_ more than friendship there?" He's not sure why he's telling Hermione this, but if Harry trusts her, he'll give it a go. It'll be nice to get another perspective at the very least. He can use Hermione's logic and uninvolved opinion.

"For whom?" Hermione asks carefully.

Draco hums, looking thoughtful. "Well, all around, really. The way Neville looks at Harry... well, a year ago, I'd have hexed his arse. Now, I'm rather glad to see it." He smiles, truly meaning his words. He's only caught similar looks aimed at him from Neville once but didn't know how to address it just yet. He's even caught Neville touching Harry's belly with a look of loving wonder and he's happy his child will have another loving adult around. He's already planning on asking Neville to take on the role of godfather, to Harry's immediate agreement and relief. He wonders if he should reduce the medications, sure he should feel jealousy or something other than excited acceptance. Maybe he's gone clinically insane?

"Does Harry..." Hermione trails off and bites her lip, unwilling to voice her question. She's got very mixed feelings about the whole thing. She didn't want to seem like a prude, but somehow she can't quite see the three of them working out in any sort of... relationship. It feels very odd to be talking about such a thing with Draco, too. It's a big surreal, really. 

Draco sighs, shaking his head at the unasked question. "No," he says, almost sadly. "He doesn't even seem to notice but he doesn't hold back affection so..." he shrugs one shoulder carelessly. Harry was very tactile once he got to know a person. He doesn't think Neville mis-reads the touches, not at all, but he doesn't think Harry quite gets how the touches _could_ be misinterpreted. He's still adorably naive.

"And you?"

Draco grins. "Oh, I'm not at all hesitant to admit I think Neville's a fit bloke," he says and chuckles at Hermione's trying-not-to-be-scandalized-and-failing expression. "I wouldn't do a damn thing about it without Harry, of course."

Hermione's eyes go wide. "Without Harry...?" she asks, trying not to gape or slap at the man.

"Yes," Draco says with an eye roll. Really, for an intelligent witch, Hermione can be a bit dense at times. "Without Harry. Otherwise, it's just messy and unfaithful." He looks up with a bright, wide smile when Harry shuffles back into the room, wrapped in a large fluffy bathrobe. "Enjoy your bath?" he asks Harry, patting the space next to him on the chaise. His smile warms as he notices Harry's pinked cheeks and damp hair.

Harry hums, settling down next to Draco, twisting slightly so his legs are laying across Draco's lap. "Everything OK?"

"Yes," Draco and Hermione answer at the same time.

"He's doing well," Hermione elaborates, giving Harry a reassuring smile before she stands. "I wish I could stay longer, but I've got to make a few more house-calls before I can head home." She wraps both men into a warm hug and kisses their cheeks. "Take care and floo if you need anything," she says with gentle sternness before disappearing in a flash of green.

Harry hums again, leaning back. "Well, good news all around," he says happily before stifling a yawn.

"Tired love?" Draco asks softly, his hands rubbing up and down Harry's legs. He tickles along the arch of Harry's foot, grinning when Harry giggles quietly and squirms a bit in his lap. He focuses back on rubbing along Harry's ankles and calves, smiling at the sigh of relief and pleasure from Harry. His hands start to ache in a short amount of time, but he doesn't care.

Harry sighs sadly and leans back against the chaise. "Yeah. I might have to stand you up tonight," he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss as Draco's hands rub and massage his ankles.

"Oh, well, I suppose I can suffer through a night alone with Neville," Draco says, dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

Harry snorts a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure it'll be terrible." He closes his eyes with a happy sigh, Draco's hands lulling him into a wonderfully relaxed state. "Thanks," he murmurs.

"For?" Draco asks, only paying half attention. Most of his focus is on where his hands are moving and feeling all over Harry's soft warm skin and relaxed body that he can easily reach.

Harry opens his eyes and looks at Draco. "Making the effort with Neville, I guess. I don't know; Everything," he says, leaning up to look at Draco fully. He rests a hand over Draco's and smiles when the blonde finally looks up at him. "Really. Thank you, love," he says quietly, leaning forward as much as he can and smiles when Draco kisses him.

"It's really not a hardship. I'm happy to do it," Draco says earnestly, cupping Harry's face gently. He ponders the pros and cons of asking Harry what's on his mind. What did he have to lose, really? Harry never stays mad at him for long and he needs to find out sooner rather than later. "I quite enjoy his company," he starts.

"Mmm, good. He quite likes you, as well. Shocking, I know," Harry says cheekily and smirks at Draco's narrowed eyes. He had been very happy to see the two men enjoying Muggle beers and laughing with each other just a few days ago. He had settled himself next to Draco with a smile and a contented happiness nearly vibrating through him. It had taken all of his willpower not to crawl onto Draco's lap then and there. He shifts slightly, sitting up a bit to give Draco a serious look. "Do you get the impression... well, there's uhm, more there?"

Draco grins widely and nods. He kisses Harry again, deeply this time, in a silent thanks for bringing up the issue first. "Ah, yes I have. Does that bother you?" he asks carefully, unsure what Harry's feelings are on the matter. The last they had spoken about it, Harry absolutely refused to entertain anything past friendship with Neville. He doesn't think anything has changed, but one doesn't know unless one asks...

Harry's hands twisted in his lap and he slowly shakes his head. "Is that fucked up, or what?" he whispers, peeking up through his lashes at Draco. He's denied having such feelings for Neville before and he's feeling like a lying, cheating bastard to realize they've changed a bit.

"Not at all," Draco says sounding pleased. He grins when Harry's eyes widen and he looks up with a shocked look on his face. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't feel in the least bad about it. I didn't expect it to happen but I'm not upset about it."

Harry blinks a few times, then narrows his eyes. Of course Draco wouldn't be upset about it. The prat is probably doing a little jig in his head. "Uhm, what exactly are you talking about?" he asks quietly.

"Well, I know Neville fancies you. You're starting to fancy Neville-" he pauses and waits until Harry hesitantly nods, "-and _I_ fill in the little triangle. I quite like Neville and I know it's mutual." Well, he knows Neville likes him, but he's not all that sure it extends past friendship. Yet. 

Harry's eyes widen, a feeling of unreality washing over him. Are they _really_ sitting here speaking of this? "Merlin, no way..." he breathes and closes his eyes. "You... you're just saying that so you can talk me into something."

Draco frowns lightly and shakes his head, gently lifting Harry's head up with finger under his chin. "Look at me," he waits until Harry's eyes open. "No, I'm not just saying anything to manipulate you in any way. It's the truth," he says simply. "I didn't expect to be in the middle of this, but here we are." He shrugs one shoulder and gathers Harry close to his body, sighing happily when Harry relaxes against him. "I respect your wishes on that, but things changed and that's no one's fault."

"But-"

"No, buts. I'm not saying we need to pull the man into our bed for a round of wild monkey sex but I'm also saying I'm not opposed to the idea."

Harry laughs, he can't help it. "Wild monkey sex?"

"Sure, I can be a wild monkey," Draco defends with mock hurt, his bottom lip out in a pout.

Harry snorts and pats Draco's chest. "Sure you can, love." He grins and rubs his belly. "I'm not exactly at my sexiest, love," he muses aloud. He isn't all that big yet, but he certainly didn't feel up to anything that would be considered wild monkey sex, especially with Neville.

"Yes you are," Draco defends, sounding scandalized. It feels like a very usual thing when he looks at Harry with both exasperation and adoration. "You have no idea how sexy you are, love. Never have," he muses, rubbing Harry's belly gently. He isn't shy about letting Harry know he's _still_ sexy, the little bump adding to his appeal. How could it not?

Harry laughs again. "You are such a pervert! You gotta belly kink or something?" he asks with a grin as he rubs his bulge. He snorts a giggle when Draco's eyes lower and follow the movements with a steadily heating gaze.

"Merlin, no. It's only sexy on you," Draco says with a haughty sniff. "You pull it off," he adds with authority. "And I can tell you it doesn't bother Neville, either." He doesn't add that he thinks _Neville_ might have a belly kink. Or just a shared _Harry_. Isn't that just an odd thing to accept in one's friend?

Harry feels his cheeks warm and he ducks his head. He has let Neville touch his belly but he never thought it was sexual or inappropriate. "Draco..." he warns softly. "I can't..."

"I'm not saying anything of the sort," Draco soothes. "We'd both be there."

Harry chokes on air and leans back suddenly, nearly falling off the chaise. A tingling heat zips through him and he feels his cheeks warm. "What? Oh... _what_?"

"You heard me. I would never entertain such an idea without you, love." Draco says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It really is, at least to him. "You didn't think I meant for either of us to have a go at him alone, did you?"

Harry just stares at Draco, still trying to comprehend what his crazy husband has just said. He's heard of such things but he never, ever imagined himself in such a scenario. "No," he finally chokes out. Oh Merlin, he isn't as opposed to the idea as he had originally thought if the tingling warmth still shooting through him is any indicator. "Uh..." he says instead.

Draco rolls his eyes with a smirk, squeezing Harry gently. "You're out of your mind if you think I'd allow it or sneak off to shag Neville without you knowing."

"Uh..." Harry says again, his eyes going distant as mental images start to flicker in his mind. "Oh Merlin," he breathes.

Draco smirks. "I know!" he says happily. "Wild, yeah? Do you think Neville would go along with it?" he asks seriously, watching Harry closely. He honestly expected a lot more resistance, denial and maybe angry words. Harry's cheeks are still a lovely pink, his eyes look rather glazed and dilated... definitely good signs.

"I don't know," Harry mumbles, only half paying attention to Draco. He twitches, his body flushing with heat as his mind shows him what it might look like. "Oh, Merlin, you aren't going to ask him, are you?" he asks suddenly, his voice slightly higher than usual with nerves, leaning forward and grabbing at Draco's shirt. He'd probably die of embarrassment if he did!

One pale eyebrow slowly raises. "Well, how else would it happen?" Draco asks, sounding incredulous.

"Uhm, it doesn't," Harry says slowly. "Look, I can't deny that it sounds..." he pauses for a long moment trying to find the right word, "fantastic, but it's not something that needs to happen, love. No one can replace you," he adds quietly but firmly.

Draco sighs, feeling the opportunity evaporating before it really even got started. He's not really that bothered, though. "I'm not trying to replace myself, Harry," he says softly, cupping Harry's face gently. "Sure, I want to make sure you're taken care of but this is for me as well as you. Maybe it's something I've always wanted to try..." He smirks when Harry's eyes widen slightly and his mouth parts slightly in surprise. Merlin, he's sexy. 

He's not exactly telling the truth, he's only ever wanted Harry but the feelings that've been growing for Neville have blindsided him and he's not about to lie about them. He didn't have sex dreams or entertained any fantasies as of yet, but he could see himself being attracted to him fully. He had felt like an utter bastard when he had realized it but at the same time, he was rather relieved it could make what he wanted go smoother in the long run. Maybe.

"Is it?" Harry asks, genuinely curious. He's not even all that sure how it would work with three people...

Draco shrugs. "Sort of. What guy doesn't? But I've never needed anything more than you," he says with a sappy grin, nuzzling Harry's nose with his own.

"Then why?" Harry asks quietly, his eyes prickling at the new thought that Draco might find him lacking in some way.

Draco leans back and blinks a few times. "Oh Merlin," he mutters, cursing himself for his last words when he sees Harry's eyes get bright with unshed tears. He's not sure how Harry misunderstood his last words but tears always leave him flat-footed. "I do not need Neville in that way. You complete me," he says firmly, shaking Harry's face slightly in emphasis. "I won't say it's just a fun idea, because I feel more than that for Neville. It's so hard to explain, love," he says softly, at a loss for further words that won't get Harry tearing up again.

"I think I get it," Harry quietly says, sniffling and wiping at his face. "I refuse to be the instigator in this, though. You have to bring this up with Neville and you have to make sure he doesn't run off screaming into the night and never speaks to me again. If he refuses, you are not to pester him."

Draco snorts a laugh. "Done and done, love." He grins and kisses Harry on the forehead, his lips lingering for a long moment. "I love you, don't ever question that."

"I know," Harry whispers. "I love you, too." He closes his eyes, fighting himself internally. He wants to be annoyed Draco would even suggest such a thing (again!) but he's not surprised. He's rather shocked Draco would recommend, for all intents and purposes, a threesome and he's surprised to find it a turn on. He's mostly nervous about the idea, hating the thought it would change his relationship with Neville. He doesn't think Neville would ever go for it and he's surprised at the mix of relief and disappointment that goes through him. What kind of person is he to even entertain such an idea? He is nearly 5 months pregnant with his terminally ill husband's baby and wondering how it would be to bring another man into their bed. He glares when Draco smirks knowingly at him.

"You aren't a heartless bastard, love," Draco says, easily deciphering the emotions flashing across Harry's face. "I won't push this if everyone isn't ready or in complete agreement." He shifts so Harry is laying against him comfortably. "Honestly, if this never happens, I'd be alright. I won't jeopardize any future relationship you have with Neville for one night of wild, hot, monkey sex."

Harry giggles and smacks Draco lightly. "Merlin, you're such an arse sometimes," he says fondly, rubbing the area he smacked lightly. He sits, his hand rubbing soothingly along Draco's chest, for long moments. "Are you going to ask Neville to be godfather?"

"Yes," Draco says simply. "I know it's something you want. I don't have any problems with it." It would also make things easier later should Neville get closer to Harry. "And Hermione as godmother?"

Harry nods slowly. "Yes," he whispers. "If there isn't someone you'd like to ask...?" he murmurs, feeling a bit of a twat for monopolizing the godparent... thing with only his friends. He's met Blaise a handful of times and likes the man well enough to agree if Draco wanted to give him the honor instead of Neville. 

"No," Draco says after only a moments pause. "I haven't anyone else. I'm just glad you didn't pick Luna," he says and huffs out a breath when Harry smacks him again.

Harry glares at Draco. "Luna is wonderful and you know it," he says archly. "You can no longer pretend that you find her annoying. I've seen you two watching Muggle movies, eating popcorn and enjoying each others company."

"Yes, well," Draco says, clearing his throat softly. "Be that as it may, I might like the witch but that doesn't mean I wish her to have that sort of influence over our daughter," he says with a defensive sniff. Honestly, most times he has no idea what the witch was even talking about and her bright color affliction is terrible on the eyes at the best of times. He really didn't relish the idea of his daughter sharing either habit.

Harry's lips quiver slightly, fighting the urge to cry again and he presses a hand to his mouth until he's controlled himself. "Right, so... not Pansy?" he finally says when he's calm. He's relieved Draco hasn't drawn attention to his outburst past a hand rubbing on his back.

"Merlin, no. She's a good friend, don't get me wrong, but I don't want her that close either. I don't even know what country she's even in right now," Draco says with an amused head shake. He wasn't surprised when Pansy went into the music business, but he was surprised she surrounded herself with Muggles and recorded something very close to what he had heard labeled "Pop" music, to an entirely Muggle audience. Pansy's energetic performances keep her at the top of the music charts. He's proud of his friend but she isn't someone he wants to be influencing his daughter either. He had only briefly considered her, especially since she got along well enough with Harry these days. "She'll be happy to just toss out free concert tickets and over-priced merchandise," he says with a grin.

Harry blinks away the hot prickling feeling again. "Ah, so... wow," he says, rubbing his belly. "Thank you," he murmurs softly, kissing Draco.

"Of course," Draco murmurs against Harry's lips. "And if you need to, Mother will be happy to help..."

Harry snorts and bites Draco's bottom lip sharply. "No."

"Oh come on," Draco says with a laugh, running his tongue over his abused lip, soothing the bite mark and grimacing at the hint of a warm coppery taste. "Mother likes you."

Harry snorts again and rolls his eyes. "No, she doesn't, Draco. She puts up with me because I'm the bloody savior and your husband, but that's it. She doesn't like me. She doesn't even talk to me on the rare occasions we visit."

"Yes she does," Draco defends immediately. He figures his Mother would warm up more towards Harry if they visit soon. Even his mother couldn't possibly be able to resist a prominent baby bump. He's not above blackmailing his own mother if that what it'll take to have her treating Harry like a son-in-law and the father of her first (and only) granddaughter.

Harry narrows his eyes and leans in close, poking a finger into Draco's chest. "No, she talks _at_ me, not to me. It's very annoying and I can't stand it. And she _always_ makes my tea wrong..." he adds with annoyance. He knows it's deliberate; Narcissa is too damn rigid with her manners and 'proper' etiquette to not be the perfect hostess and memorize such things. How hard was it to remember two sugars and a splash of milk? He could easily say how Narcissa took hers. He'd rather she just handed him the ridiculously ornate cup and let him serve himself, but apparently that just wasn't done. Merlin forbid...

"Ow," Draco grumbles, rubbing his chest. "Alright... fair point. Fine, fine," he mutters and kisses Harry's nose. "Now up, I need to get ready." He rubs a thumb under Harry's tired eyes, his eyes warm with concern. "You staying in?"

Harry sighs, yawning widely at the reminder. "Yeah, I think so. I'm nearly ready to fall asleep now."

"Aww, poor baby," Draco coos playfully and pokes Harry's shoulder to get him to stand. He doesn't dwell on the fact that just months ago, he'd just pick Harry up and carry him to bed. Now he just wraps an arm around Harry's waist to help guide him to bed and tucks him in. He flops onto the bed next to Harry and runs a hand through his dark hair slowly, smiling as Harry's eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh leaves him. "Alright, get some rest," he leans down and kisses Harry lightly. "I'll pop in before I go, just in case you've changed your mind, yeah?"

Harry just nods, his eyes still closed. He feels Draco leave the bed and rolls onto his side, grabbing a pillow to shove under his belly and to snuggle with. He drifts off with a smile as he hears Draco singing something softly as he showers.

...oOo...

"Neville!"

"Draco!"

The two men grin at each other as they embrace in a tight hug. Neville relaxes his arms slightly when he feels Draco tense slightly, afraid he's squeezed to hard and hurt the blonde. "Sorry," he murmurs, his lips rather close to Draco's ear.

"S'alright," Draco says, leaning back with a wink. "Just waiting for my magic pill to kick in," he says softly, knowing Neville felt him tense a moment ago. He wishes that he could have ignored that, it felt quite nice to be so close to Neville. He shakes his head and raises a hand when Neville goes to apologize. "Don't say it, I'm completely fine."

Neville nods. "Alright," he concedes, long used to the claim. He knows Draco isn't fine, but hates to argue the point with the blonde. "So," he grins and gently bumps Draco's shoulder with his own. "Where to? Harry coming?"

"Movies? And no, he was sleeping when I left and I couldn't bear to wake him," Draco says softly. He knew pregnancy would wear Harry out, but he didn't expect to be the perky one most days. He grins when Neville just nods. He ducks Neville's arm, wrapping his own around the man's waist comfortably and waits to be side-alonged to the alley near the theater they like to go to. He squeezes the arm around Neville before strolling away, towards the theater, ignoring the various groups of loud teenagers and slow moving older people. "Action or rom-com?" he asks, glancing at the various titles one the other man steps up beside him.

Neville hums, looking at the various movie posters and showtimes. "I don't know. I haven't a clue," he says brightly. He's liked every movie they've gone to see so far, having no preference. He even enjoys the films meant for children, though he's quite sure he's not alone in that. "What's showing soon?" he asks, checking the time.

"Uhm," Draco squints, unable to see the small numbers. "Bugger," he huffs and elbows Neville gently. "Hard to tell."

"Ah," Neville says and shuffles up two steps as the line moves. "Well, a surprise then?" he asks, unwilling to bring attention to Draco's weakened vision, a side-effect from one of the potions he'd taken early in his treatment trials. It annoys the blonde when he does and he doesn't mind being his 'eyes'. He grins, imagining the reaction he'd get if he gifted Draco with a pair of Muggle reading glasses.

Draco snorts and flicks his hair out his eyes. "You can read, right, Neville?"

"Of course," Neville mock pouts. "I like surprises though."

Draco looks over at Neville. "Hmm... Good," he grins deviously and looks back towards the front, mentally laughing when he feels Neville's confused (and wary) gaze on the side of his face.

Before Neville can further ponder the meaning behind such an expression (or the words), the teenager behind the plastic wall asks them what movie they want, voice dripping with boredom. "What's showing next?"

The girl just blows a bubble, snapping the gum in her mouth as her eyes flick between the two men. A leering grin pops up on her face. "Date?"

Before Neville can disagree, Draco nods with a sappy smile and wraps an arm around his waist and rests his head on his shoulder. He blinks but leans into the blonde, playing along.

"Second date," Draco simpers, fluttering his eyelashes at the staring teenager. He muses over the fact that he didn't care about the girl's nosiness. Maybe his pill kicked in...

"So cute," she squeals as two tickets pop out of an automated slot. "Enjoy!" she says, handing them the tickets after Draco paid with his new Muggle credit card.

Draco snatches the tickets with a wink, "Will do." He snickers as he leads a stunned Neville into the lobby. "Snacks?" he asks, ignoring the still shocked look on the other man's face. "Ooh! I've always wanted to try a goober," he says, quickly walking over to the counter rubbing his hands together with eagerness. He bounces lightly on the balls of his feet as he waits in line.

As Neville catches up to the blonde, another teenager looks at him questioningly. "You want something, man?" the teenager asks in a bored tone, shifting on his feet as he looks between the two and tapping his fingernails on the glass display case.

"Oh, uh, popcorn?"

"Size?"

"Large?"

The teenager sends Neville a slight glare and turns to get the popcorn, obviously unimpressed with Neville's indecision. "Butter?"

Neville wrinkles his nose as Draco makes a noise of disgust. "No, thanks," he snatches the bucket of popcorn away before the kid can even think of putting that stuff on his popcorn. He had tried it the first time and it was like eating styrofoam dipped in grease. Even Harry had spit it out... and the man had no problems eating sandwiches stuffed with onions, sardines and peanut butter. He grins as Draco turns the box of candy over in his hands with wonder and pays the teenager for their treats, leading Draco away from the counter. "C'mon, the movie starts in five minutes."

...oOo...

Draco and Neville leave the theater, holding onto each other and giggling like teenagers.

"Oh my," Draco chuckles, leaning heavily into Neville, his arm tightly wrapped around the other man's waist to help support himself. "I never thought I'd say this, but Muggles are very imaginative." Times like this, he has doubts that Muggles would react badly should they be presented with magic; they thought of things that shocked even him.

"I know, right?" Neville says between his own chuckles. "Even for a 'kid's movie'" he says making air quotes, "that was rather amusing." Another round of giggles has him leaning against Draco slightly. He no longer finds it odd for him to share a laugh with Draco Malfoy, nor to have enjoyed a very Muggle thing like a movie with him. Even thought Draco hasn't said so, he knows the blonde uses magic so sparingly now so he happily finds new Muggle things to do. He shakes his head with amusement. The changes in his life the past few months are enough to make him giddy as well. He only wishes Harry could have joined them tonight since he isn't big enough to cause too much worry about being amongst Muggles. He blinks when he realizes Draco is looking at him intently, his amusement drying up instantly as he watches Draco's eyes drop to his mouth.

Draco doesn't pause to think, or he probably wouldn't find himself pressing his lips against Neville's. He has a split second to enjoy the sensation before he feels Neville's hands on his chest, pressing gently but insistently. "Sorry," he whispers as he takes in the shocked expression on Neville's face. "I don't... Sorry," he repeats and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. At least Neville hasn't decked him.

"It's- What the hell, Draco?" Neville gasps, resisting the urge to lick his lips. He doesn't want to admit the kiss was nice (brief, but nice) or that he had enjoyed it. The brief flair of feelings he felt are quickly squashed by guilt. What will Harry think? Slowly, he scowls as he looks at Draco. "How could you do this to Harry?" he demands, gaping stupidly when Draco drags him towards the steadily emptying parking lot and away from the doors instead of answering right away. Draco doesn't look sorry at all, he notices with annoyance.

Draco stops, a fair distance away and in a relatively private spot. "I said I was sorry," he says quietly. "I mis-read the situation, alright?"

"No, it's really not alright. You're married," Neville points out, feeling nauseous. "Oh gods... Harry," he says miserably and glares at Draco again. "How can you do this to him?" he asks again, his voice a low angry hiss. He never thought Draco was anything but faithful to his friend and now he's being plagued with doubts and anger. Is this some sort of kick he's on because of his limited time? Is he one of those bastards that can't stomach their pregnant spouse? He's seen the blonde give the bulge affection touches but he didn't know if that meant he still- He stops those thoughts before they can get inappropriate and are really none of his business. "You do this often?" he demands, pointing a finger into Draco's chest and stoically ignoring the pained wince on the blonde's face. He won't let the Slytherin work his sympathies right now.

Draco blinks and then scowls, realizing what the other man is implying. "What? No!" he says indignantly. "I would never do that to Harry. What the hell are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that you just fucking kissed me," Neville hisses.

"Oh, well... it's not like I've ever done that before," Draco says with a sniff and lifting his chin slightly. If he isn't still reeling from rejection and a little shock, he'd probably be quite impressed with Neville's righteous anger on Harry's behalf. "Besides, Harry won't mind. He practically gave me permission," he says with a smirk, watching as Neville's eyes widen with disbelief.

Neville shakes his head. "No, he wouldn't do that," he says adamantly. Even if he barely understands it at times like this, he knows Harry loves the snarky blonde. He's having his child, for Merlin's sake. "Oh fuck," he whispers as the last thought hits him like a bludger in the guts. "You... you're..." he stutters, unable to finish his thought. His hand settles on his stomach as it churns slickly. 

"I know, trust me, I know how it sounds," Draco says quietly, slowly reaching a hand out towards the other man. He's sure it's only because Neville is in shock that allows him to wrap a hand around the other man's wrist and gently pull him closer. "Come on back to ours, Harry will tell you."

Neville's eyes widen, looking panicky. "No," he says shaking his head, his eyes still wide and panicky. "He'll hex me..." He knows he deserves it. Even if he did push Draco away, he enjoyed the brief contact and his traitorous mind wonders how it would be to kiss Harry as well. He nearly moans with self loathing; he's a horrible person and an even worse friend.

"What? Why? _I_ kissed _you_. If anyone's getting hexed -which won't happen, by the way- it'll be me." Draco says, amusement coloring his tone. He's had years to get to know the weird workings of the Gryffindor mind, so Neville's reaction isn't exactly a shock. "Please? I promise."

"How can you say it like it's no big deal?" Neville asks slowly, his eyes drifting down to where Draco's hand is wrapped around his own. He resists the urge to yank his hand back and looks back up at Draco. He can admit, if only to himself, that it feels nice.

"Because it's not," Draco says, shrugging one shoulder gracefully. "Harry isn't exactly thrilled but we've talked about it before."

Neville feels slow and stupid, not quite understand just what Draco is talking about. "About what?" he asks, unsure if he really wants an answer or not. He can feel Draco's thumb making lazy circles on his inner wrist. He briefly wonders if Draco can feel his thudding pulse.

"You," Draco says simply, gently tugging Neville closer. He grins when the other man shuffles closer with no hesitation. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asks lowly, smirking when Neville nods slowly. "We both like you and I'm hoping that you'll be there for Harry."

Neville opens his mouth to ask for more details but snaps it shut with a click when he realizes what Draco means. He swallows heavily, a lump in his throat. Of course he'll be there for Harry, if the other man didn't hex him into next year that is. "I see," he murmurs finally. "I don't know what to think..." he shakes his head slowly, closing his eyes when Draco pulls him closer. He doesn't have it in him to resist and he absently registers panic shooting through him trying to drown out the pleasant tingling warmth of Draco. He can't do this to Harry!

"So don't think," Draco says quietly, wrapping an arm around Neville's waist, pressing their chests close together. He leans down slowly, suppressing a smirk when Neville's eyes flutter shut and he feels his breath hitch with anticipation. Before he can successfully press his lips against the other man's again, Neville's eyes snap open and he leans his head back sharply, turning away. "What?" he asks, trying not to snap.

Neville worms a hand between their chests, trying to get some distance between them. "You're- Stop! I don't think we should do this," he mutters, cursing himself for sounding unconvinced and slightly breathless. He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling like a bastard and letting himself calm. He's still freaking out about the situation, no longer affected by the brief kiss and second attempt.

"Alright," Draco says easily, loosening his hold on Neville gradually so the poor man doesn't fall on his arse. He shakes his head slightly and smiles when he hears the other man sigh with relief. "Do you really think I'd lie to you about this?"

Neville looks at the blonde carefully, worrying his bottom lip as he thinks. "No," he finally admits. In all the years he's known Draco, he's never really known him to lie. Be a bastard and say hurtful things, but rarely (if ever) lie. "But it's just... _so_ not what I expected."

"I understand, I do," Draco says with a grin. "Harry was just as freaked out when I mentioned it. I can admit that I like you and you like Harry..." he trails off with a graceful shrug, waiting for Neville's answer. He sighs and pokes Neville playfully in the chest when he only gets a blush and averted eyes as answer.

Neville shifts his feet awkwardly. "I... I don't know how to answer that," he finally mumbles, feeling lightheaded and lightly nauseous. "You aren't supposed to go around saying stuff like that."

"I can if I want," Draco replies with a haughty tone that makes Neville chuckle. "Look, we both know things are going to end a certain way. I don't want to have any regrets or worries, yeah?"

Neville shakes his head quickly. "No, I have no problem... being there for Harry. But-"

"So, then be there for him," Draco interrupts with a cheeky grin. "Oh, and this might be the wrong time to mention this but we want you to be godfather," he adds in with a snap of his fingers as he remembers. He mentally curses the stupid potions that cause his occasional memory lapses.

Neville stands there gaping for a long moment, his eyes wide. "Alright," he finally says once he's got his voice back. Harry had mentioned it in passing but it still was another thing to actually be asked. Everything feels so surreal for a long moment, he doesn't even react when Draco presses close again. "You're absolutely barmy and I don't think you can blame it on any medication."

"True." Draco leans back and laughs. "I've always been one to just speak my mind and not give a flying fuck about others' opinions." He chuckles and snuggles into Neville, smiling when the other man doesn't push him away. "I am sorry for making you feel awkward, I didn't intend for that to happen. I'd hoped you just let me jump you and take you home to Harry."

Neville gasps and unconsciously squeezes the blonde in his arms. "You... you don't mean that."

"Oh, but I do. But, again, I don't want to make you feel awkward. Come back with me? Harry should be up by now for a snack," Draco says with a grin. "Please?" he asks quietly.

"Ah-alright," Neville stutters, shocked that he's agreeing. "Hold on," he says, even though he didn't need to as Draco is wrapped around him. He apparates them into the front garden, even in this case unwilling to pop right into the house. He watches with amusement as Draco disentangles himself and opens the front door, crooking a finger at him when he doesn't immediately follow. He takes a deep breath, fully expecting a hex in the arse or pissing off Harry enough to put a strain on their friendship.

Draco lets go of Neville (after a brief, comforting squeeze) as soon as they pop into the foyer. "Harry?" he calls out, smirking when he hears a muffled voice answer him from the kitchen. "I've brought Neville 'round."

"Really?" Harry calls back, his voice slightly muffled but sounding happy.

Neville glances at the doorway nervously, nibbling his lip as he walks into the kitchen. "Hey," he says softly, feeling like he's wearing a flashing sign around his neck, announcing his indiscretions. He smiles when he sees the other half of a massive sandwich on the plate in front of Harry and decides not to look too closely to see what it contains. The last time he had done that, he lost his appetite for quite some time.

"Hey Nev!" Harry chirps, waving his hands at Neville in a 'come here' gesture and chuckling softly when Neville shuffles over with hesitant steps. He hugs Neville tightly, smiling when Neville leans away enough to make room for his belly. "How was the movie?" he asks when Neville practically dances away the moment he's released from the hug.

"Oh, uh... it was fine. Funny."

Harry just raises his eyebrows at Neville before picking up his sandwich and taking a big bite of it, grinning around his mouthful when both men glance away. "You OK?" he asks watching Neville tug nervously at the hair behind his ear.

Draco rolls his eyes and sidles closer, easing himself onto a stool across from Harry with a soft grunt. "He's just freaking out because I kissed him."

Harry's mouth pauses mid-chew and he looks over at an appalled Neville. "Really?" he asks, trying not to laugh at the completely shocked look on Neville's face. He really wants to hug the poor man; Neville looks ready to piss himself or run away, possibly both. He glares at Draco, even though he knows Neville is mis-reading the action. He expected Draco to do _something_ but he's irked because his husband looks highly amused by Neville's uncomfortable state. 

"Yeah, but I didn't kiss back. I pushed him away. I'm so sorry, Harry!" Neville stammers, raising both hands in supplication and shuffling two steps away.

"Dammit Draco," Harry sighs and lets his sandwich fall back onto his plate, absently shoving a slice of pickled beet back in. "Why did you do that? You've completely freaked Neville out!" he says, waving a hand at a tensely standing Neville. 

Neville gapes, disbelief clear on his face. His head whips quickly between Harry and Draco. "You- He- You-" he stammers, his finger wiggling between the two amused men. "You really did know?" he finally asks Harry, as he realizes Harry isn't upset about it; just exasperated. He can't help wrinkling his nose slightly as Harry takes a large bite of his sandwich.

"Well, sorta," Harry says around a mouthful of _whatever_. "I didn't think he'd molest you," he says with a less-than-playful glare at Draco.

Draco glares and flicks at Harry's unoccupied hand. "I did not _molest_ him," he says indignantly.

"No, no molesting," Neville agrees absently, his mind trying to catch up. "So, you were telling the truth when you said Harry knew," he says softly to Draco, feeling his cheeks heat up with a curious mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He really doesn't know what to think, finding out the two having been talking about him... that way. He probably shouldn't be feeling a flush of warmth but he can't help it.

Draco nods, giving Neville a quick smile. "I did say," he says softly, smiling warmly as he reaches across the kitchen island to hold Harry's free hand, stroking along the back of it with his own.

"I'm sorry I doubted you," Neville nearly whispers. "But in all fairness, who would believe it?"

Harry nods, chewing quickly so he can swallow. "I know! I told him the same thing!" he says to Neville. "Look, I don't want anything to be weird, so if you want, we can forget all that happened," he offers, nibbling on a thick slice of feta as he watches Neville for a reaction.

"Alright," Neville says slowly, unsure if he means it. "I mean, I did like it," he says quietly. "But I do not want to intrude." He looks between the two men, hating himself a little for even _thinking_ it. 

Harry smiles softly at Neville and crooks a finger at him. He watches Neville approach slowly and before Neville can blink, he wraps his arm behind the other man's neck and pulls him down into a quick kiss. He's surprised Neville doesn't push him away and tilts his head a bit, pressing harder and humming softly. He smiles as he slowly leans back. "Sorry, I just didn't want to be left out," he murmurs quietly, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches Neville press his fingers to his mouth. For a quick kiss, it was surprisingly nice.

Draco shakes himself, his eyes still slightly wide after watching Harry and Neville kiss. It was rather sexy, if he's honest with himself. He smiles when Neville throws him a nervous look.

"Oh, uhm. Wow. You..." Neville pauses and takes a deep breath. "Okay," he says to himself and takes a deep breath. "I don't know what you want me to say," he finally says, looking between Draco and Harry helplessly.

"Nothing," Harry says with a small shrug, picking up his sandwich again. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to," he mumbles through his mostly full mouth.

Draco makes a face at Harry before looking at Neville. "What my slovenly, but oh-so-adorable, spouse means is you don't have to say anything than what's on your mind."

"Oh," Neville says with a sigh and slowly lowers himself onto the stool next to Draco. Everything seems to be racing by, going too fast. He doesn't know what to do. He's long been attracted to Harry and Draco isn't hard to look at either. He looks between the two men, smiling a little as they hold hands and grin happily at each other. He knows he'd never be able to get between that; regardless of what either of them say. He doesn't want to regret anything and he has a feeling deep inside that acting on any of his more-than-friendly feelings towards either man would be a bad idea. "No," he quietly says. "I have an idea what-" he cuts himself off and clears his throat as he blushes. He adjusts himself as subtly as he can in his pants. "I can't though."

"Alright," Harry and Draco say at the same time, shocking Neville. Not only did they both agree but they both had a tinge of regret in their voices. "I told Draco that," Harry says quietly, giving Neville a bright smile as he pats his hand.

"Well, yes, but I still think it was worth it to try," Draco defends, rubbing the back of Harry's hand.

Neville blinks, looking between the two men again as unreality washes over him. "Wow," he mutters, "so you aren't upset?" Twin shrugs is the only answer. Neither man wants to push Neville into any decision. "I think I'm flattered," he adds quietly. And a little offended they hadn't tried harder, he thinks with a mental snort. He really can be quite fickle.

Draco chuckles, ignoring Harry's glare. "It wasn't meant to flatter, but you should be; We're fucking hot," he says with a smirk before getting serious. "Harry didn't believe me that you care for him."

"I do believe that," Harry says quickly, sending a glare to Draco before giving Neville a small smile. "Just not the way he thinks," he says, jerking a thumb towards Draco.

Neville blushes and awkwardly pulls on the hair behind his ear again. He doesn't want to lie but he doesn't want Harry to believe that he doesn't care about him a lot. He loves him. He glances warily at Draco and only sees a calm expression on the blonde's face. "This is so surreal," he mutters before shaking his head at Harry. "He's right, Harry."

"What?"

"I said, he's right. I... I do care about you. A lot," Neville admits, surprised to see Draco smiling at him, almost looking proud. "I won't do anything about it," he hurries on to add, mostly looking at Draco this time. "I just want... well, to be here. For you," he shyly glances at Draco again. "Both of you," he adds, his eyes flicking down to Harry's belly. He's not blind to Draco's declining health. As their friendship grows, Draco doesn't try as hard to hide his symptoms.

Harry thoughtfully munches on a pickled carrot, his eyes flicking between Neville and Draco. He knew Neville wouldn't jump at the chance like Draco thought; again, he finds himself curiously mixed with relief and disappointment. He loves Draco with everything he is. Neville is his friend that he cares about almost as much as Draco. Everything is so messed up. He absently picks up another pickled carrot, pointing it at Neville. "I won't pretend I wasn't looking forward to something... more," he says quietly, unwilling to be dishonest as well, waving his carrot about, "but I'm glad, too. It would have been weird and I'm definitely not up to feeling sexy."

"Right," Draco scoffs and nudges Neville with his elbow. "I keep telling him, he's bloody sexy but he doesn't believe me. Tell him he's sexy, Neville," he commands, his eyes flicking between Harry and Neville.

Neville tries not to gape as he nods, his cheeks feeling hot. He wants to ignore Draco's command but he can't. He shyly looks at Harry. "You are, Harry."

"I am not," Harry says patiently. He waves a hand when Draco and Neville both open their mouths, obviously to argue. "Shut it. You can't disagree with me; I'm pregnant. I'll cry," he threatens, feeling giddy and nearly unleashing an evil giggle when both men gape before snapping their mouths shut in twin pouts. Neither one can stoically handle the occasions he gets weepy and emotional. He's not above using the emotional blackmail.

Draco's mouth snaps shut and he smirks. "You sneaky bastard," he muses, sounding impressed and completely smitten. "I love you," he sighs happily, resting his chin on his palm as he gazes at Harry adoringly. He nudges Neville again, his eyes still intent on his husband. "Right?"

"Huh?" Neville asks, blinking. He had been rather caught up in the bright smile on Harry's face and barely heard what Draco had said. "Sure, exactly," he absently agrees, nodding.

Harry's pickled beet falls from his slack fingers as he stares at Neville in shock. "What?" he breathes.

"Hmm?" Neville asks, looking around warily after catching the shocked faces on both men. What did he just agree to? Oh Merlin, did Draco ask him into their bed again? He gulps and sits up straighter on the stool. "What?" he asks a little more urgently.

Harry blinks rapidly, a hot prickling stinging his eyes. "You... you love me," he says breathlessly. He meant to phrase it as a question but it didn't seem to come out that way. He knows Neville cares about him, but love? He doesn't know how to react to that. He loves the man as a friend and he can only hope that's what Neville means.

"Oh, uhm... I do. Like a friend," Neville is quick to add. It's mostly true, so he doesn't feel bad for the half-truth.

"Oh, calm down, love," Draco says to Harry, slightly amused. "You aren't that surprised, are you?" he asks, keeping his voice light. He's practically doing cartwheels inside. Sure, he failed in the 'wild monkey sex' plan but he wants to let loose the giggle bubbling up when he realizes his instincts about Neville are correct. He absently rubs his chest, trying to sooth a dull ache. He winces slightly, checking the time, and is relieved he can take another half of the Muggle pill soon.

Harry slowly shakes his head and smiles. He leans over and gently takes Neville's hand, smoothing out the curled fingers with gentle caresses. He absently traces circles into a warm palm as he looks up at Neville with a shy smile. He nearly drops Neville's hand when he realizes the touch could be taken as intimate but he doesn't like the idea of holding back his affection. He's gotten too used to being able to touch Neville, in ways he still thinks of as 'friendly' or 'affectionate'. "Did Draco ask anything else?"

Neville's face pinches with uncertainty for a moment before a bright smile takes over his face. "Yes, he did. I, of course, accepted."

"Great!" Harry gushes, squeezing Neville's hand happily before munching on another pickled beet (pouting all the carrots were gone) and absently rubbing his swollen belly. "Did you know we also asked 'Mione?"

Neville nods before shrugging. "No, but it makes sense." He looks to Draco, his brows drawn together in confusion. "Are you alright with that?" He knows Draco and Hermione get along but he's surprised he hadn't chosen one of his own friends for at least one of the godparent roles. He only met Pansy once out of school and found her to be nice, but kind of a flake.

"Of course," Draco says, waving a hand dismissively. He had briefly considered Blaise as godfather, but Harry didn't get along with him well enough to force that kind of bond on either of them; he didn't want to force either man into that close of a relationship without him being around to mediate. "I trust both of you with my daughter."

Neville swallows past a lump as he nods, blinking away the sudden sting in his eyes. "Alright, thank you," he says, happy his voice didn't come out choked or hoarse. "Harry," he says softly, turning on his stool to give the dark haired man his full attention. "I am proud and honored to be your daughter's godfather." His eyes flick down to Harry's belly and he leans forward enough to gently caresses the roundness.

Harry beams at Neville, chewing and swallowing the last bite of sandwich quickly. "Brilliant, Nev. Thanks," he says, squeezing Neville's hand almost painfully. He can't articulate how thrilled he is that Neville agreed to be godfather, even after Draco's (surprisingly) clumsy seduction attempt earlier. He wouldn't have blamed his friend if he ran screaming and never spoke to them again.

...oOo...

"I can't believe you kissed poor Neville," Harry muses, glaring at Draco occasionally as he strips for bed. "He was so freaked out!"

Draco pauses, his shirt dangling from one wrist. "I couldn't help it, love," he defends, climbing into bed and patting the space beside him once Harry is completely naked. He avidly watches as Harry eases himself beside him, shuffling and sliding over until he's pressed snuggly against his side. He sighs happily, rubbing a hand along Harry's hip and side. "I didn't think he'd react like that," he says, amusement clear in his voice.

"How did you think he'd react? Slam you against a wall and have his wicked way with you?" Harry asks, an eyebrow raised as he props himself on an elbow to look at Draco. "Or, more accurately, go limp while you had your wicked way with him?" he amends, grinning. He knows Draco doesn't mind switching it up but he would have to be the aggressor in that case.

Draco grins when he sees the look on Harry's face. He's not upset, just genuinely curious. "Well, sort of," he admits. He really thought that Neville had been thinking the same thing just before he kissed him. "I admittedly mis-read the situation," he says, clearing his throat with slight embarrassment.

"Oh, really?" Harry asks, snorting a laugh before dropping his head down to rest against Draco's chest. He sniggers, trailing a finger along Draco's pale chest and leaving a tingly trail of heat. "Still, I told you it wouldn't happen like that. Neville isn't that kind of bloke."

Draco shudders lightly, his skin tightening pleasantly with Harry's light touches. "What kind? The fun-having kind?" he asks sarcastically.

"No," Harry says patiently. "The kind that would get involved with someone else's man."

Draco hums, both in response to Harry's words and his hand splaying over a pebbled nipple. "Especially yours," he says in a sing song voice. He really should have seen it coming, though. Neville is too noble and loyal to go there. Even after, essentially, getting permission. He knows that, he respect that trait and hopes it never goes away when it comes to Harry. "Anyway, thanks for calming him down."

"Mmm," Harry chuckles and shifts, going up on his elbow again. "I didn't like the idea of him running away screaming into the night."

Draco glares, rubbing a hand along Harry's back and arse. He rolls his eyes. "So you've said numerous times, love. He wouldn't have run screaming into the night," he says with an eye roll. "He seemed mostly afraid you would be upset. You being calm about it helped the most," he points out, smiling when Harry shivers as he applies more pressure to the touch on his arse.

"Alright," Harry agrees breathlessly, his head drooping slightly as Draco's hand cups and firmly squeezes one of his arse cheeks. He slides a leg up, shifting slightly so he's half straddling the blonde. He chuckles when Draco looks up at him with surprise. "How're you feeling?" he asks quietly, leaning down to kiss him softly.

Draco knows Harry's not asking to be polite, so he pauses a moment to access himself. He's feeling surprisingly good, especially with Harry pressed against him and gently undulating against him like a wet dream. He grins at Harry dopily. "I feel brilliant," he murmurs, letting his hands wander all over Harry's warm, smooth skin. He pulls Harry all the way on top of him, groaning softly as their hardening erections brush.

"Shift down a bit," he instructs when he feels a slight twinge from having Harry's weight on him. He sighs happily, pulling Harry down into a passionate kiss after he moves. He pulls back and blinks up at Harry, trying to memorize the vision above him. Harry's rounded belly is surprisingly erotic, especially with Harry perched on top of him as he is. He idly wonders how big a pervert he is as he eagerly grabs the lube from the side table, squeezing a large glob out with increasing arousal. One hand glides between Harry's cheeks, circling and pressing slickly, while the other rubs circles lovingly on the rounded belly in front of him.

Harry leans forward, giving Draco's skilled hands more room. "Draco," he whines softly, conflicted between arousal from Draco's fingers steadily stretching and slicking him and embarrassment to have Draco's other hand and eyes all over his belly. He sees clear lust and love mixing in the steely gaze, making it hard for him to look away or think anything other than Draco being truthful about his changing looks. He doesn't understand how Draco can find his rounding belly appealing but he goes along with it as he gives a shuddering sigh, arching when Draco's fingers brush along his sweet spot. 

He writhes and wiggles, already nearing an orgasm. It's been longer than usual since they've had sex and he's not all that surprised to be brought to the brink so quickly. Hormones can be a mixed bag, he muses as he gaps and twitches. He couldn't lay blame on either of them for the lack of sex; one or both of them would be too tired to do much more than cuddle and pass out. "Stop," he moans softly, trying to lift himself off of Draco's fingers.

"What? Why?" Draco pants, stilling his movements, even though he doesn't want to.

"I'm so close, I don't-" Harry starts, his words cut off with a loud, drawn out moan as Draco quickly resumes to stroke forcefully inside of him as he slides his other hand down to stroke along his hard cock. Pre-come slicks his movements, everything hot and slick and nearly overwhelming. He shudders, twitching his hips into Draco's hand only twice before he comes with a grunted moan. "You bastard," he accuses softly, kissing Draco soundly and running his fingers through mussed blonde strands.

Draco slowly pulls his fingers out of Harry's twitching hole and grins. "What?" he asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking. He knows that in 5 minutes, if he didn't fall asleep, Harry would be ready to go again. He flips them, gently laying on top of Harry, resting on his elbows and angling his hips slightly so he doesn't squish Harry's rounded belly. "I know you can't argue with this," he says softly, pressing his erection into the crease between Harry's hip and thigh, running his thumb along Harry's quickly hardening length. "Ready again?" he asks cheekily, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugs, his cheeks pink. He can only blame the hormones. He wiggles, arching his hips into Draco impatiently when the blonde just hovers over him, staring at him with glazed eyes. "Well?"

"Oh!" Draco breathes, shaking himself out of his reverie before leaning down to capture Harry's lips briefly before trailing kisses down his neck, shoulders and chest. He smirks when Harry gasps and writhes when he catches one peaked nipple between his lips, flicking the nub with the tip of his tongue. He loves how sensitive Harry is. He shifts, giving the same treatment to the other peaked nipple as he clumsily slicks himself with one hand, checking that Harry was still loosened and slicked as well. He moans softly as he eases himself inside Harry. "Ah," he sighs as he bottoms out. It's been too long, he thinks as he stills for a long moment, willing himself not to come so embarrassingly soon. He was close enough earlier just watching Harry and feeling him squirm and arch against him.

Harry quietly hums, fluttering his fingers down Draco's back and sides. He chuckles when Draco shivers against him and groans softly. He raises his knees, resting them on Draco's hips. He chuckles again when Draco moans as he slides in a little deeper with a slick sound and starts to move, apparently unable to be still any longer or too worked up to keep still. He arches into Draco, trying to ignore the way his belly presses into Draco's. He rolls his eyes when Draco shudders at the contact. "You're a right pervert," he whispers. He torn between amusement and embarrassment. He briefly considers pushing Draco off for a moment and rolling over onto his knees but another sharp thrust wipes any thoughts from his mind.

"Yeah," Draco groans, sliding a hand up and down Harry's thigh before pressing it closer to his chest. "I know," he pants, grinning. He picks up his pace, changing his angle and speed until Harry's back arches and he cries out in a throaty whimper. "Gods, I love you," he whispers brokenly, his words almost indecipherable through his pants and groans. He strokes a loving hand down Harry's body before kissing him, hearing the soft 'love you, too,'. He blindly reaches down, his hand finally finding and stroking Harry's leaking cock, trying to keep the same tempo as his hips. He groans pitifully when he feels his own orgasm approaching.

Harry goes limp, his second orgasm nearly knocking him flat as he moans and calls out Draco's name. He feels Draco's shuddering sigh of relief and moments later feels warmth explode inside of him and Draco flops beside him, panting and huffing. Even in his blissed out state, he feels concern for the overworked sound to Draco's breathing. He carefully curls into Draco's side, running a hand down his pale, flushed chest. He feels the heavy, quick beats of his heart and frowns slightly. "You alright, love?"

"Yes," Draco eventually answers, panting a bit. "I'm alright." He sighs when Harry snuggles closer, his hand splayed over his still pounding heart. He doesn't remember ever feeling this out of breath or wiped after sex and his brow furrows. He nearly groans with annoyance; he hates the thought of having to give this up. If he didn't know it would mentally scar his husband, he'd happily die balls deep in his Harry. He wraps an arm around Harry and squeezes, sighing with relief when he feels his heart rate finally slow to a normal pace. "Sleep," he instructs, slightly annoyed Harry didn't immediately drop off and is currently giving him a concerned look.

Harry nods slowly, his lips pursed. "Alright, but we're mentioning this to 'Mione next time she sees you," he says with a stern voice. He doesn't look forward to discussing his sex life with Hermione, but he wants her to know about it in case it's important.

"Yes, fine, alright," Draco concedes after a moments hesitation. He doesn't look forward to sharing such details, only because he knows it would embarrass Harry. He mostly agrees in the hopes Hermione can help. Hopefully she can insure he doesn't have to give up sex too soon.

...oOo...

Neville nearly drops the soft baby blanket in his hands when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and gulps when he's faced with an annoyed, pinched faced red-head. "Uhm, hey," he mumbles, nervously twisting the soft pink fabric in his fingers.

"Neville," Ginny says, a slight sneer twisting her painted lips. "What are you doing here?" she asks, raising a red eyebrow as she leans back, showcasing her large, rounded belly. Last she heard, Neville wasn't with anyone; let alone in need of baby things. 

Neville's hands still on the blanket and he feels irritation prickle through him. "Getting a gift," he says, glaring at the witch openly. Now that he's no longer surprised, his annoyance and irritation are easily known. "You?" he asks coolly, pointedly ignoring the way both of her hands make large circles on her rounded belly. He also ignores the cheap wedding band but he does wonder which poor bloke she had managed to trick into marrying her.

"Obviously, shopping for _my_ baby," Ginny huffs, annoyed. She purses her lips, studying her former classmate as she wonders who Neville could possibly be shopping for. She doesn't know anyone else that's expecting and she's sure her baby is a boy, not that she'd expect a gift from Neville. The pink blanket looks soft and luxurious. Expensive.

Neville just nods, trying to politely show his disinterest. As far as he knows, Ginny is on her third child -with as many fathers. He watches with amusement as her face pinches with annoyance. He never did get the hang of gossiping and he can't be arsed to find any interest at all in talking to Ginny. 

"And who are you shopping for?" she snaps, pointedly looking at the pink blanket.

Neville shrugs one shoulder. "Oh, no one in particular," he says casually. If he hadn't promised not to share the news of Harry's pregnancy (even though Harry was very clearly pregnant now, he didn't know if Harry wanted him to share the news yet) he'd love to tell the red-headed bint just to see her reaction. She'd probably screech or go into a pouting rage. Or laugh. It's hard to tell, really. "Never know when you'll need one," he says, raising the blanket slightly. "Well, I'd say it was nice seeing you..." he trails off, shrugging as he turns away, chuckling when he hears her sputtering indignantly.

"Neville!" Ginny hollers, waddling after him, huffing as she grabs his arm. She quickly lets go. From the dark look she gets, she thanks Merlin that Neville isn't the kind of wizard to strike out at a female, pregnant or not, and crosses her arms over her ample belly. "How are you?" she asks, huffing slightly. She's heard from numerous people that Neville and Draco Malfoy have been hanging out, sometimes with Harry and sometimes not. She's itching to find out if it's true but she knows Neville won't tell her outright.

Neville stares blankly. "Fine, you?" he asks shortly, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Good," Ginny trails off, annoyed and put out that Neville is being so short with her. She really didn't expect him to hold a grudge for so long. It isn't like she had cheated on _him_. Sheesh; he was taking 'Gryffindor loyalty' to extremes. "Why do you care if I screwed around on Harry?" she blurts out, her arms still crossed. 

Since discovering the joys of sex (well, the joys of controlling boys with her various parts and womanly wiles) she had been unable to stay with one bloke for very long. It was too exciting to stay pinned down for long. She had tried her hardest with Harry. Even though she had been put out and annoyed she hadn't been able to bed him, or control him with her body, since she really wanted to be Mrs. Potter. 

All those hopes and dreams had vanished when Harry caught her in a very compromising position with some seventh year Hufflepuff. It was all the more horrible because the bloke had been terrible in bed, so not worth it. He had broken up with her, resolved and angry after learning of her numerous other dalliances behind his back. At the time, she thought it was some miss-guided attempt to keep her safe because of the looming war. That's what she told everyone, anyway. Soon enough she, and everyone else, realized it was a permanent arrangement (and she'd never have what she wanted) when she saw him getting a little too close to Malfoy. She had flown into a rage and had been smugly proud to get a handful of blonde hairs before she had been hexed (badly enough to be taken to the infirmary for two days) by Neville _and_ Luna for her outburst.

Neville just stares at Ginny for a long moment before breaking out into peals of delighted laughter. "I suppose that is a moot point, after all," he says with a grin, waving her off with an absently flopping hand. If it weren't for the cheating witch in front of him, Harry wouldn't be where he is now. He supposes he can let go of the grudge for that reason alone. "Bye," he says after his laughter dies down. He shakes his head, ignoring Ginny's further attempts to get his attention. He wonders how amused Draco will be when he tells him about this... He smirks as he pays for the blanket. As he leaves the store he bumps into said blonde moments later, nearly causing Draco to spill to the ground. He quickly catches and rights Draco with a sheepish smile.

"Neville!" Draco grins, looking down as he smooths his shirt so he can hide a grimace of pain. "What's the rush?"

"No rush," Neville says, shaking his head and tugging on the hair behind his ear. "Just wasn't paying attention," he admits with another sheepish smile.

Draco nods, pursing his lips slightly. "Something on your mind?" he asks, moving quickly and threading his arm through Neville's and leading him towards the nearest restaurant. 

The Incident, as Draco has labeled it in his mind, happened weeks ago and he's relieved that there has been no lingering awkwardness between them all. He had just barely resisted groping Neville inappropriately last time they had gotten pissed together, Harry smirking at him over his glass of orange juice as if he knew exactly what he'd been thinking. The prat. It didn't curb his thoughts at all but luckily he had passed out before he could do anything else to possibly jeopardize their relationship and woke up in a pleasant pile with Neville and Harry the next morning. He couldn't find it in himself to be upset when he saw Neville pressed along Harry's back, a leg and an arm draped across Harry's side. Surprisingly, there was no awkwardness when they all woke up since Draco kept any inappropriate comments to himself. He mentally smirks, wondering how soon they can do that again, as he gives his attention back to Neville.

Neville blinks as he's led to a seat in a outdoor cafe. "I just bumped into Ginny," he says absently, taking a menu from the waiter with a 'thanks' as he's handed one.

"What did that... witch want?" Draco asks, censoring himself at the last moment. He had long ago tried to curb his creative nicknames for the Ginger Bint, especially in Harry's presence. One can only be told to 'stop being so immature' so many times without it sinking it. Eventually. He still thought up fun names but he doesn't say them aloud anymore. 

Neville shifts in his seat. "I was getting a gift for the baby," he says with a smile, lifting the bag from the baby store. "She was there," he shrugged, his attention mostly on the menu. Hmm... He's never tried a toasted sandwich before. He jumps when another chair is pulled out with a noisy squeak and filled; Harry puffing lightly as he drags the chair out. "Hey Harry," he smiles.

"Hey Nev," Harry says brightly, lowering himself into his seat with a soft grunt and then a happy sigh as he stretches his legs and rolls his ankles in a circle. "Hey love," he says quietly, smiling when Draco leans over and kisses him softly. "Did I miss the ordering?" he asks, smoothing a napkin over his belly and looking around, a hopeful expression on his face. He's ravenous and willing to eat just about anything at the moment. 

Draco and Neville chuckle. "No, we just sat," Draco says, giving Harry a fond smile.

"Ohhh, goody," Harry bounces a little in his seat and eagerly smacks his lips. He looks between the other men and frowns slightly. "What's up?" he asks, noticing their odd expressions. Both look amused at his expense (nothing new) but also like he's interrupted something.

Both men shrug. "Nothing," Neville says, shaking his head and chuckling. "I was just telling Draco I ran into Ginny."

"Oh."

"Yes, and you didn't answer me," Draco says, giving Neville an amused grin. "What did Her Ginger Nibs want?" he drawled, sipping delicately from his water glass. 

Neville chuckles and shakes his head, going into full blown laughter at the sour expression on Harry's face. He isn't sure if it's the mention of Ginny or the creative name from Draco. He shrugs. "Nothing really. Just tried to say hello and ask after Harry..."

"Ugh," Harry grimaces and rubs a hand over his belly. "Is she-?" He mimes a larger rounded belly at Neville, disdain on his features. The last time he had seen her she had been hanging all over some greasy looking bloke he vaguely recognized from Hogwarts (a seventh year to his fourth, if he remembers correctly) and gushing about having his baby. The bloke's expression quickly turned from smug to horrified and they had scurried off soon after, Ginny non-too-subtly stuffing a hand down the front of his pants. Thankfully, he really hasn't had to interact with her at all. Not since Hogwarts.

"Yeap," Neville nods. "Number three, right?"

Draco and Harry nod -Draco snickering meanly.

Neville notices the wistful expression on Harry's face but chooses not to say anything about it. If he had his way, this wouldn't be the only baby for Harry. He shakes the thought out of his head, fighting a blush. "She caught me buying a gift for the baby," he says with a smile, "and asked me who it was for."

"What did you say?" Harry asks, only curiosity in his voice. He is now quite obviously pregnant and he no longer cares if it's a secret. He doesn't exactly like the idea of Ginny knowing but it isn't like he would hide it. He isn't ashamed but he doesn't look forward to the hype that's bound to happen. He sighs wistfully, daydreaming that the Wizarding World no longer gives a shit about him and he can fade into obscurity...

"No," Neville says with a shrug and a shake of his head. "I wasn't sure..."

Draco chuckles, leaning forward to tap the hand Neville has resting on the table before rubbing Harry's rounded belly. Thankfully, they're in a Wizarding district so they didn't have to worry about placing a glamour on the happy little bulge. He misses it when it's glamoured. "It's not like she wouldn't be able to tell if she saw him," he chuckles again, his hand now laying motionless on Harry's belly. His eyes go wide and suspiciously shiny a moment later when he feels a nudge against his hand. He clears his throat and smiles warmly at Harry, looking back at Neville briefly before they're interrupted by their waiter.

Harry is the first to order, keeping his lunch choice relatively normal for once. Until he asks for chocolate sauce. He twirls a hand as the waiter lingers, silently demanding the man to get their food once everyone has ordered. With a knowing grin, the water drops off some bread before leaving them alone again. "Anyway," he says to Neville, an indication for him to continue as he breaks a roll into small pieces and slathers butter on it before popping a piece into his mouth.

"What did you get for Amanda?" Draco asks Neville, absently watching Harry devour nearly all the bread in the basket with single-minded efficiency. He considers pouting and lamenting the fact he hasn't gotten a single piece as Harry licks butter from his thumb.

Neville goes to answer but pauses as Harry's face blanks and his eyes get wet. He nearly asks 'who?' but closes his mouth with a snap as it registers. He's only recently asked about names and Harry had been leaning towards 'Amanda Jean'. He had gotten the impression Draco wasn't keen on the name at all and now... "You alright, Harry?" he asks quietly, leaning forward to gently grab Harry's hand when he sees Harry's face tense in an effort to fight tears. He shares a quick look with Draco, relived to see they're both looking slightly panicked in the face of a crying Harry.

"Yeah," Harry says thickly, sniffling and turning wet, shining eyes to Draco. "Really?" he whispers, breathing out in a heavy huff when Draco's hand grips his other hand, tightly.

"Sure," Draco says, trying for a casual shrug. He had accidentally blurted it out, he hadn't meant to tell Harry he agreed with his name choice this way but he means it. It seems almost fitting that Neville is here as well, too. He wanted to go with family tradition but Harry had wrinkled his nose cutely at the idea, wanting a fresh start and unwilling to name their daughter after someone. "I couldn't think of a better one," he smiles and winks at Harry, feeling himself warm pleasantly at Harry's beaming smile as he awkwardly tries to wipe his eyes without letting go of his or Neville's hands. "But promise me something?" Harry nods eagerly, his eyes wide and expectant. "If she doesn't look like an Amanda, we go with something else?"

Neville chuckles and rolls his lips together when Harry and Draco both grin at him. "Sorry," he says, feeling himself flush a little at the attention. "Is there an option B?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Not as of yet..." Harry says slowly, his eyes slowly sliding back towards Draco, shoulders slumping slightly as he takes in the smirk on the blonde's face. "Are we talking stars or flowers here?" he asks cheekily.

Draco rolls his eyes and kisses Harry's knuckles, waving his free hand dismissively. "Whatever suits," he answers. He laughs when Harry drops his (and Neville's) hand like a hot rock a moment later as his plate slides in front of him. He ignores the annoyed yet concerned glance from Harry (and Neville) when he rotates his plate of salad. He focuses on dribbling dressing all over it, thankful he had asked for extra as he dumps the second tub as well, effectively drowning the greens.

"Is that really all you want?" Harry asks, his voice quiet and muffled by a large bite of fried chicken. He quickly adds another drizzle of chocolate sauce and continues eating. He knows it should be enough that Draco's eating anything at all but the tiny salad, even if it is drowned in dressing, is nearly depressing to look at. He glances at his own plate nearly overflowing with fried chicken, biscuits, some kind of cheesy pasta and numerous cornbread muffins. He wrinkles his brows and slowly places one of the muffins on Draco's napkin, choosing the only one he hadn't drowned in chocolate sauce.

Draco nods slowly, a warm feeling going through him as Harry places the muffin by him. He really didn't want it but the fact that Harry is sharing... it's ridiculously touching. He forces himself to nibble it, unwilling to waste such an offering. "Yes" is all he says, forcing himself to focus on his food. He didn't really have an appetite until later in the day. He smiles, hoping it soothes Harry's concern, and tucks a forkful of lettuce in his mouth. "So?" he asks Neville, "what did you get? It's not a surprise is it?"

Neville shrugs. "I don't know if it's a surprise. I mean, it's not like there's a baby shower, right?" When both men nod their agreement, he gives a resigned sigh. He's been trying to plan one for weeks but both men refuse. Harry claiming not to have anyone else to invite and Draco proudly stating they didn't need to mooch gifts, which still stymies him. He never knew a Slytherin to refuse gifts (or the opportunity for gifts). "Right then," he rolls his eyes with fond amusement. "A baby blanket."

"Ohh," Harry sighs, hoping it would be soft and pink. "That sounds lovely." He absently rubs his belly, making a mental note to actually get to shopping for his daughter before she is born. He stifles a giggle.

Neville nods, grabbing the bag and sliding it towards Harry. He chuckles when Harry quickly licks his fingers and wipes them on a napkin. He knows Harry will graciously accept it but he nibbles his bottom lip anyway, nervous and hoping it's good enough. He smiles with relief when Harry pulls it out and makes a soft cooing noise as he rubs the soft, pink blanket against his cheek, his eyes fluttering closed with a sigh. "Alright?"

"Oh, Nev," Harry gushes, running his hand along the soft material. "It's wonderful." He blinks, trying to avoid tears again. "Thank you." He carefully folds the blanket and places it back in the bag. "That reminds me," he says, his eyes flicking between Neville and Draco, unsure who to address. "We need to get more for the baby," he says, leaning back and rubbing a hand absently over his belly.

Draco snorts and rolls his eyes before grinning and pointing a finger at Neville. "Your job," he declares with authority.

Neville only nods, thrilled to be included. "Sure thing, mate." He fights another blush when Draco and Harry both give him bright smiles. "What do you need?" he asks, leaning slightly as he reached for the muggle pen and pad of paper he keeps in his back pocket. The set has been right handy more than once and he's glad he still carries them.

"Everything." Draco and Harry say at the same time and dissolve into a fit of quiet laughter, ignoring the disgruntled look on Neville's face.

"Everything," Neville echos in a flat voice, actually writing it down. Merlin, how could they not have anything? He doesn't ask though, a cold spike of despair going through him at the thought. He can only imagine what's side-tracked the couple.

"Well," Draco says quietly, shifting in his seat slightly to ease an ache in his back and side. "I haven't given it nearly enough thought and I think Harry here is too distracted."

Harry nods, his eyes wet again. "I've been a neglectful arse," he says quietly, feeling like an utter failure. He was over 6 months pregnant now; he should've given this thought way before now. He sniffles and gives Neville a watery smile when he feels the other man squeeze his hand gently. He makes an effort to calm himself down; he's been entirely too weepy just in the past hour. 

"Nonsense, you've always been a procrastinator," Neville says, smiling softly.

Draco snorts a laugh and nods. "Too true. Always waits until the last minute for everything," he says fondly, leaning forward to run a calming hand down Harry's arm. "Write a list and let Hermione and Neville go shop and bond." Draco leans back in his seat, crunching an ice cube noisily. "I'll give you my Galleon pouch and whatever you can't find, we'll order." He sends a mild glare when Neville goes to protest at the mention of taking his money, crunching his ice cube happily when Neville's mouth snaps shut and he nods once.

Neville chuckles. "That works for me," he says brightly, not so secretly glad for the help. He hasn't seen Hermione in a while, it'll be nice to reconnect.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _...sorry._

Harry hurries down the sidewalk, huffing and puffing slightly in his rush. He silently curses the way his belly and heavily pregnant body makes him waddle. He's tried to deny the accusations from everyone (even his arse of a husband!) that he moves about in a waddle. He had nearly cried just to make them all feel bad. But at the moment he can't deny it. He _does_ waddle. And it's really quite inconvenient.

He'd probably be in an even bigger panic if it wasn't for Neville. His friend is walking next to him, his normally long-legged stride shortened to keep pace with him and Neville's arm is securely around his waist. He doesn't bother trying to figure out when Neville lost his clumsiness, just accepts that Neville is calm and collected enough to practically carry him along as they walk.

Harry lightly pants, a hand lightly curling around his bulging belly. "Did Mione say what she wanted?" He almost wishes he could floo or apparate still. Walking sucks. He never used to mind it but now that he's carrying extra weight and easily winded, he'd rather chance taking a muggle car right about now. He keeps any complaints to himself though; it really isn't a long walk. Plus, it won't be hard to talk Neville (or Draco) into giving him a foot massage later.

"No," Neville says, sparing Harry one brief look that he tries to make comforting and supportive. He immediately had dozens of horrible scenarios go through his mind when he got the brief message through the floo from Hermione a short time ago: 'Come to my office'. He tries to tell himself that Hermione won't be giving horrible news but it's very hard to keep rational thoughts. "She didn't but she had that high pitched voice she gets when she's freaking out but trying to hide it," he says, somehow able to still frown while speaking.

Harry just nods, understanding exactly what Neville means. He goes back to trying to keep his thoughts only on moving his feet and the warm, secure arm holding him. He doesn't let himself wonder why Hermione would call them to her office. He doesn't want to wonder why he hasn't seen Draco all afternoon. He refuses to think the two events are connected. He won't think about anything else but not tripping and falling. At just a bit past 8 months pregnant, he's become a bit more clumsy than usual. He'd probably be more upset about it if it didn't mean Draco (and Neville) kept a close eye on him and, more times than not, had a hand on him at some point to keep him steady. He really didn't mind that part. At all.

Harry cries out in surprise as he feels something slam into him and he spins his arms a bit before wrapping both protectively around his belly as he feels himself tipping and lurching. He'd most likely would have fallen if it isn't for Neville catching him, a tight grip on his waist and arm. He hangs his head trying to get his breath back and settle his stuttering heart, feeling Neville's hands pat and smooth him, mostly over his belly. "'M fine," he murmurs, squeezing the hand he's got tightly wrapped around Neville's bicep.

"What the fuck?" Neville yells, whipping his head around, looking for whoever bumped Harry. He nearly snarls when he sees a man staring wide eyed at them as he pats himself down, his movements slowing as he notices Neville's anger. He scowls darkly when the stranger makes no move to check on Harry's well-being, the insensitive bastard. "You bastard! Watch where you're going!" he seethes, his attention split between checking Harry over and sending a death glare at the man that had bumped into Harry. A final check on Harry and, once satisfied, he rounds on the stranger with a snarl. "Do you have any _idea_ who the fuck you just smashed into?" he growls and advances on the rapidly paling man. It's enraging enough the guy slammed into Harry, but it's the fact of it being a heavily _pregnant_ Harry that has him seeing red. What kind of arsehole doesn't watch where they walk?

Harry gapes and watches in complete shock as Neville stalks towards the poor man that had accidentally bumped into him. He's frozen for long moments, completely baffled by Neville's reaction and behavior. He's never seen him so angry before; not even when fighting in the Final Battle. He's torn between concern for the stranger and a curious flush of warmth and affection at being defended. He jumps with a shout of surprise when he sees Neville's left hand twitch with possibly dangerous intent. "Neville!" he squeaks.

"How the fuck does one miss a largely pregnant man?" Neville hisses as he glares, one hand darting out to indicate Harry as his other hand twitches towards his pocket again. He doesn't know if he wants to hex the bastard or have the pleasure of just punching him. He doesn't register Harry's shouts at first, since his focus is so intent on the man that dared touch Harry and nearly caused him harm. If he hadn't been there, Harry would have fallen! Hermione had more than once given him a lecture about making sure Harry didn't over do anything since he was a bit more at risk, health-wise, during his pregnancy. Nothing that could be considered dangerous or serious, but needed to be watched out for. Just in case. They both know Harry well enough to know he'd need the extra watching -er help.

"Neville!" Harry tries again, shuffling closer. He bites his lip, unsure of what to do. He really doesn't know if tapping Neville on the shoulder is wise at this moment. It might snap Neville out of the strange rage he's in or cause him to focus it on him. He shuffles around uneasily, rubbing his belly as he watches anxiously.

"Well?" Neville yells, pushing the man roughly when still hasn't uttered a single word. He glares, furious. He knows he's overreacting but he can't help it. He's promised to take care of Harry and he very nearly had been forced to forfeit his promise. Not to mention the panic and fear he's feeling (and feels practically pouring off of Harry as well) about the whole unknown situation with Hermione that is no doubt connected with Draco. He leans forward and speaks lowly, "Get the fuck out of here and watch where you're going." He watches the man turn and run off, looking back a few times to make sure Neville isn't following him. He nearly does, just to see what the bastard will do.

Harry taps Neville gently on the arm and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his friend stop glaring after the poor stranger and turn apologetic eyes towards him. "Well... damn, Neville," he says with a small grin, hoping to break the mood with humor. "You're a right scary beast when you're mad."

"Oh, Merlin." Neville flushes and pulls at the hair behind his ear. "Yeah... shit. I'm sorry about that Harry," he says quietly, fully aware now that he isn't in a cloud of rage that he's freaked Harry out. He swallows thickly and gives a barely chokes out a chuckle. He relaxes slightly when Harry no longer looks at him warily and steps closer. "I just... I think I vented on that poor bloke," he admits with sheepish shrug. He'd feel bad if the arsehole hadn't had some of it coming, though.

Harry chuckles. "Well, he wasn't completely innocent. He did nearly knock me down," he says with a grin. Now that he knows Neville isn't likely to go chasing after the bloke he steps closer, curling his hands up slightly and settles against Neville's chest as close as his belly allows. He's pretty sure Neville could use the contact as much as he does. "Thanks," he says quietly, resting his head on Neville's shoulder for a moment. He smiles when he feels Neville tightly wrap his arms around him, giving him a brief, light squeeze.

"Anytime," Neville says earnestly. If he hadn't held Harry the same way numerous times, and in front of Draco, he'd probably be a bit embarrassed by the intimate embrace. As it is, he's managed to get used to Harry's nearly clingy ways again. Especially recently, requiring hugs and light touches more often the closer he got to his due date. Harry didn't go long without some sort of contact from him or Draco. He holds Harry for a bit, enjoying everything from his smell to the weight against him before he gently pushes Harry upright and back a bit. "C'mon, we've got to see Mione."

Harry nods and again puts an immediate halt on any scary thoughts. "Right. Let's go," he says and waits a moment for Neville to collect his bearings and they continue on in the way they were before the interruption.

...o...

"I could rip your hair out!" Harry huffs, hands hooked into claws before the relaxes them with an effort and crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at Hermione. He has to tuck his hands away to stop them from twitching. At the moment, he's not sure if he'd be ripping out Hermione's hair as stated or strangling his smugly smiling husband. He doesn't get how any of this is amusing. "Honestly... you had us freaking out!"

Hermione blinks a few times before her mouth drops into a small 'o' and she shakes her head, sending an apologetic look to Harry and Neville. "Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! I didn't think how it would sound..." she trails off and bites her lip. She sighs softly and offers both men another apologetic look, mentally cursing herself for her lack of thought. She shares a glance with Draco and sighs again when he glances back without expression. "I'm sorry." She had been distracted and irritated with a different patient, barely remembering to send the message in the first place. Somehow, she's sure that probably would have been better...

Neville, finally settled and no longer freaking out, smiles and pats Hermione's hand. "It's alright, Mione. You didn't mean to..." he grins and shoots a semi-mock glare at Draco. He frowns when Draco gives him a half-smile, trying not to be annoyed the blonde hadn't given Harry's emotional state more thought. He knows Draco has enough to worry about. "You should have known better, though."

Draco snorts with amusement and flicks his head to move a few strands of hair out of his eyes as he settles back in his seat, his ankle resting on his knee for a moment before he grimaces and moves it back to the floor. He calmly cups his knee with his hand and shrugs one shoulder. He's not _that_ indifferent but he can't change what happened any more than Hermione can. He felt his heart sink when Harry burst in, panicking. He's settled as well and thankfully no longer seeing spots with each hard thump of his heart. "It's really not my fault the witch couldn't take an extra second to include 'no problems, just come over to discuss shopping', now is it?"

"Yes," Harry and Neville say at the same time. They share a look and neither feels foolish for over-reacting, regardless of what Hermione or Draco say. The bastards had them in a right panic.

Harry pouts a bit as he flops back in his chair. He's feeling rather lightheaded all of a sudden, the whirlwind of emotions leaving him vaguely tired as well as the quick walk there. He huffs, looking away and silently agrees he's overreacted. "Fine, fine," he mutters. "What was so important that we had to hurry over here?"

"Well you didn't have to hurry-" Hermione says but cuts herself off after getting twin glares of annoyance. "Well, anyway, as you know Neville and I did some shopping already and we're only missing a few things," she waits a moment as Harry and Draco nod. "So, the big items I'm leaving to you," she ends looking at Harry before handing him a crisp piece of parchment with only a few items listed. While she claimed they were big items, it was only a crib and a bunch of small things. Big only in the grand scheme of things, maybe; diapers, bottles and a rather ridiculous amount of blankets.

"Alright," Harry says slowly. He rather likes the idea of sorting something out himself. His eyes narrow and he glances at Draco, his thoughts finally settled enough to think. "What _are_ you doing here, anyway?" he asks, realizing he hadn't said yet, only that Hermione hadn't called about him. He cocks his head slightly and narrows his eyes, already searching Draco's pale face for deception. He appreciates his husband trying to spare him details but it ticks him off at the same time.

Draco coughs lightly and sits up straighter in his seat. He had hoped Harry wouldn't have asked that. While he hates to see his pregnant husband in a state of panic, it had seemed to keep his thoughts away from questioning his presence. He shrugs, cutting the motion off when it aches sharply. "I came to see Hermione."

"Yes, and...?" Harry asks, a bit impatiently as he waves his hand about.

"Nothing," Draco says with a slight shrug, annoyed the move sends another bright flare of pain across his shoulder and down his back. "I had some questions..." He'd recently started to take his potions every other day and he'd been nearly frantic to find out more answers from the healer. Only 5 minutes before Neville and Harry had burst through the door, he'd found out that he'd have another few weeks before he'd be taking the potion daily and from there... he didn't know what to expect and it scared the ever loving shit out of him. If he keeps his luck with how his disease is progressing, he'd still be relatively lucid by the time Harry delivered. He feels Hermione's questioning glance and shrugs. He didn't know if he wants to tell Harry what they've discussed or not. He didn't hide anything about his progress but he didn't want to worry Harry either, not so close to his due date.

"And?" Harry asks again, a bit shortly. His eyes flick between Hermione and Draco, knowing there's something going on.

Draco sighs and rubs between his eyes as they close for a moment. "I'm taking the potion every other day."

"Oh," Harry says quietly. He slowly stands, struggling a big under the weight of his belly, before plopping himself into Draco's lap. He flashes an apologetic smile at the pained wince that passes across Draco's face for a moment and just stares at the blonde before nodding slowly and snuggling into him, kissing his jaw gently. He turns his attention to Hermione. "And this means... what exactly?" He has an idea, but he needs to _know_ instead of guess.

Hermione clears her throat and gives Harry a soft smile. "It means that in a few weeks, at best, he'll be taking it daily. I can't predict how long it'll remain effective after that point," she says in her quiet 'healer' tone but it's soft with the regret of a friend as well. "The muggle medications are still working well, so it's harder to say exactly how it'll go." She shares a look with Draco; the unknown irritating them both. Even with the pain managed, it didn't halt the disease's progression. She wishes she had more time to study the illness but she didn't want to turn Draco into her own personal guinea pig, not when he needed to spend his time with Harry.

"Oh," Harry sighs and shifts so he's resting his cheek on Draco's chest, running a hand in slow circles over it before letting rest over his heart. He closes his eyes and enjoys the muffled thud for a few moments. "Alright." He blinks back the prickling in his eyes and just breathes in Draco's scent. He knew this would happen but it isn't at all easy to take even knowing beforehand. He'd peeked in the file Draco started last week; reading through his husband's final arrangements and it had sent him into an hour long crying fit. He didn't feel at all soothed when he realized he already knew Draco's final wishes. He'd been relieved to see he left Blaise to take care of the details, though. He didn't think he be able to handle it, he could only be so strong.

Neville watches the couple and clenches his fists in his lap as he looks away. He hates seeing them go through this and he's unsure what to do. He feels powerless and it makes him irritable. He'd visited Harry last week and felt is chest tighten when he saw Harry's red-rimmed eyes, his heart tightening painfully when he realized he'd been crying. A few deep breathes and he's calmer. "Mione," he says softly and gives his friend a searching look. He sees similar feeling mirrored there and he nods once; it was somehow perversely calming that a trained healer felt just as helpless. "Have you both eaten yet?" he asks, changing the subject.

Hermione smiles and shakes her head. "No, we thought we'd all go get something later."

"Good," Neville stands and shuffles over to where Harry and Draco are still snuggled in the chair. "Hungry?"

Draco nods, earning him smiles from everyone else in the room. "I was thinking pizza."

Harry perks up and sighs happily. "Oh, goody!" he gushes, bouncing in Draco's lap. He loves pizza and he's thrilled Draco didn't have to be coerced or talked into eating it. Well, anymore. "I _knew_ you secretly loved it," he says with a cheeky wink.

"Yes, well," Draco says and sniffs softly as he tilts his chin up. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed it and at this point he really doesn't see a need to. Plus, Harry loved it and he'd happily do anything to make him smile these days. "I like the spicy things they put on it." The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile when Harry kisses his chin.

Neville and Hermione chuckle. They haven't found a topping yet that Draco or Harry would refuse yet. Neville is still a bit put off by pineapple but he really couldn't say no when Harry gave the puppy dog eyes or got that crazed look in his eye when he needed a certain kind of food. "Right, let's go," Neville says, gently pulling Harry up from Draco's lap. He nods at the twin looks of gratitude. Harry couldn't quite get up on his own and Draco had trouble lifting his husband up anymore.

"Oh!" Hermione cries, pausing on her way out of the door. "I almost forgot!" She hurries back over to her desk, throws open a drawer and spends a few moments shoving things aside. All three men share a confused yet amused look as they go back to watching Hermione search as she mutters a curse. "Aha!" she crows and lifts a small box from her drawer. She walks over and hands it to Harry with a smug smile. "Wait a week, then open it."

"A week?" Harry asks, a whine in his voice. "Why not just wait a week to give it to me?" he asks, annoyed.

Hermione snickers and leads him from her office, locking up behind them as they leave. "Because I'd forget all about it and feel like vermin for neglecting you." She's a bit annoyed Harry refused a birthday party this year, even if she understood his reasoning. Between him being largely pregnant and Draco progressing so rapidly, a party just seemed… tiring and not altogether worth it. A quiet dinner is celebration enough this year but it was _after_ his birthday and she hated giving presents late.

"Oh," Harry mutters, turning the small box around to inspect it. He gives her a brief suspicious look; since when did Hermione forget anything, especially something she deems important? He shrugs, quickly becoming unconcerned, and squeezes the box a bit. "Is it shrunken?" he finally asks. He doesn't care if it's big or small, he's just curious. He shakes it gently but there is no sound at all.

Hermione only smiles. "It'll sort itself out when it's time to be opened," she says.

"Alright," Harry says brightly, stuffing the box in a pocket. "Can someone glamour me?" he asks sheepishly. He hates that his magic is a bit wonky now but he doesn't mind letting his friends help him since it would be incredibly stupid to risk his baby or his own health by doing magic, especially for something as simple as a glamour. He gives Hermione a cheeky grin when she nods approvingly.

Neville nods, waving his wand in a quick pattern around Harry's belly, as he's used to performing the glamour on Harry. He smiles when the large bump disappears, the sight a bit disturbing as it seems to melt away. "There. All safe to be around muggles," he announces. He isn't able to get rid of the waddle-walk Harry has now but he hopes it would just come across as a cocky saunter if anyone looks closely.

"Thanks, Nev," Harry says, looping his arm through Neville's. He loops the other through Draco's and leans his head on his shoulder for a moment before straightening up so they can walk. He knows he doesn't _look_ pregnant but he still _feels_ it and he groans softly as they walk. He'd forgotten how far away the muggle pizzeria was. "How much further?" he asks, huffing a bit after a few minutes of walking. He's sure his feet are bound to fall off at this point…

Hermione pops her face between Harry and Draco's. "Just another few blocks," she says and points down the street. "See?"

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry says. He tries not to rub his belly, knowing the action would look incredibly odd as his hand would hover a bit in front of his glamoured stomach. He hurries his pace, trying to get to the goal of food and a chair as quickly as he can.

...o...

Harry watches Draco toss an empty vial into the trash with a grimace on his face. He didn't keep track as closely as he used to, Draco now taking the potion daily. He sighs and wraps his arms around Draco from behind, a bit annoyed his belly keeps him from getting closer. "Alright, love?"

"Yes," Draco says quietly, covering Harry's hands with his own. He ignores the tremble and slowly rubs along Harry's arm. He's not quite alright but he won't share that with Harry. The potions are barely easing his pain and he's almost completely relying on the Muggle pills, but he's grateful they're still effective. He turns a bit, resting his hands on Harry's very swollen belly. He's due in about a week but he has a feeling their daughter will be early. He feels pressure against his palm and he smiles, bending down a bit to kiss Harry softly. "Did Hermione say when she'd schedule you for the surgery?"

Harry shakes his head, biting his lip with a sudden flutter of nerves. He'd really hoped to deliver his daughter naturally but Hermione had strongly recommended against it. Apparently, Amanda hadn't turned properly and the risks for such a birth in males were... scary. "No, but it'll probably be sometime next week, close to my due date," he says, absently rubbing a hand over his belly, scratching a bit between Draco hands. "I think she's keeping her options open, for the surprise factor and all that," he says. Hermione had taken on less patients recently and her schedule is a bit sparse these days. He chuckles, having a strong feeling he'd be surprising Hermione at the worst possible time, regardless of her efforts. Right in the middle of sex or hours before dawn.

Draco hums, happily nodding. He'll definitely be here for that. It sends a happy thrill through him even as he grimaces in pain from standing too long. "Did you let Neville know?" he asks quietly. Even if he isn't the godfather, he'd want Neville there for his and Harry's peace of mind. They've all gotten quite close over the past months; it wouldn't feel right to not include him.

"Yes," Harry says, rolling his eyes and smiling. "Of course I did. He asked to be there, like I wouldn't have forced him there anyway," he says, chuckling. He thought Neville was probably more anxious for him to deliver than Draco. Or Hermione. Or himself. "Did you know he's carrying around a shrunken packed bag?" he asks, giggling. "Just in case." He spent enough time alone with Neville, he could understand even if it amused him greatly.

Draco shakes his head, smiling. "No, but that doesn't surprise me at all." He steps away, kissing Harry once more before carefully making his way to their bed, easing himself down amongst a large pile of pillows. Between him and Harry, there's barely any room for people on their bed for all the pillows they've piled on since they've both taken to nearly nesting in them. He smiles again when Harry sits with a huff of exertion and gracelessly flops backwards onto the bed, rolling a bit to settle next to him. He winces but doesn't make a pained groan as Harry rests his head on his chest and drapes an arm across his waist. He wouldn't stop Harry from doing that for anything, no matter how much pain it causes. "Are you ready, love?" he asks quietly, running a hand down Harry's arm before letting it rest on his belly.

"No," Harry admits and chuckles. "But I'm as prepared as I can get. The nursery is fully stocked. I've never seen so many little outfits in my life!" he says, his voice a bit quiet with awe. If he were to guess, he'd say their daughter had enough clothes (in varying sizes) to change her outfit dozens of times a day and not have to wash anything for a year. He himself is guilty of over-shopping; who can honestly resist buying such adorable things? Muggles, especially, had the cutest clothing for little girls. He adored the one pieces with ears or tails on them.

Draco chuckles, squeezing Harry tightly and sighing happily when he feels him shift and rest a leg carefully over his, fighting a chuckle when Harry wiggles his chilly toes between his thighs. Sex might no longer be an option these days but he'd never give up snuggling. Not that he'd ever admit to doing it and enjoying it, especially to Hermione. He wouldn't give the witch a chance to recommend against it. He'd happily endure. "Did you get Mother's contribution?"

"Yes," Harry snorts. "Did you know she was going to that?" he asks, struggling up to an elbow to gaze down at Draco. His eyes prickle against his will as he looks and notices all the changes that've happened to his husband in just the past weeks. His pale hair doesn't shine as much as it used to and it's definitely thinning. He gently runs a finger down's Draco's cheek, trying not to notice the pallor or sharper angles.

Draco looks away for a moment before meeting Harry's eyes again. "Maybe," he finally admits. He didn't _know_ but he had his suspicions... and he had hoped, as well. "It's kind of a tradition, love. It really is a good sign she'd send some ancestral furniture." He had openly wept when his childhood bassinet, crib and a silver rattle had been delivered by one of the Manor's house-elves. They weren't just gifts; they were tokens of his Mother's acceptance and love.

"I see," Harry says quietly, running a hand through Draco's hair with soft caresses. He still doesn't quite understood pure-blooded traditions but he'd easily seen how much the gifts meant to his husband. He hadn't been able to stop himself from joining Draco in shedding tears when he heard the items were Draco's. And numerous other Malfoy's, but the fact they'd been Draco's meant more to him than anything else. He still gets teary when he knows he'll be placing their daughter down to sleep in the same place his husband had lain as a baby. He questioned the practicality of a silver rattle but easily allowed the crib to be placed in the nursery and the bassinet was currently by their bed, both ready with adorable matching pink gingham linens. "I don't have to go there and formally thank her, do I?"

Draco chuckles and gives Harry a happy smile. "Yes."

"Damn."

...o...

"Draco!"

Draco mumbles as he rolls on his side, nuzzling his face into his pillow with a sleepy grunt. His eyes fly open with the bright flare of pain that shoots through him and he jerks up when a hand forcefully shakes him. "Fuck! Ow!" he hisses, rolling back over to curse who ever shook him so rudely before his brain can fully comprehend who would be doing such a thing. His eyes widen when he sees Harry sitting stiffly up in their bed with both hands wrapped around his belly and a panicked look on his face. "Oh, Merlin! Now?" he breathes.

"Yes," Harry says, trying not to whimper. He bends over a bit, crying out softly when he feels a tearing pain rip down his belly to his groin. His hands circle, trying to sooth and soften the stiffness. "Call... Hermione... Neville..." he pants out through clenched teeth, trying to remember the breathing exercises Hermione taught him. He feels like a complete idiot panting like a dog or a freight train until he notices the pain easing off.

Draco jumps from the bed, limping a bit and he cursing when he lands harshly. He hobbles over to the floo, silently grateful he' remembered to restock the floo powder just that morning. He tosses in the sparkling powder, trying not to wring his hands or pace impatiently. "Hermione!" he bellows, poking his head into the cool flames and looking about wildly. Where _is_ that witch? "Hermione! It's Harry!" he yells, feeling his head go light and swimmy with the effort. He doesn't think about his words and how confusing they might be; Hermione will no doubt understand he means he's calling about Harry. He sighs with relief when he hears muttering and someone stomping towards the floo.

"Yes?"

Draco glares up at Hermione's husband, Tom or something... "Get Hermione, dammit! Harry's gone into labor!" he nearly screams, wanting to reach through the flames and throttle the man. He watches, thankful, as the man jumps up, calling for his wife. He turns and looks behind him, his lips pressing together as he watches Harry breathe in a strange manner, vaguely remembering the classes they'd gone to once to learn such an odd thing. "Hermione!" he yells again and jumps when the he's pushed back.

"For Merlin's sake, I'm here," Hermione says dryly, pulling her robe around her and tying her sash. She should have known the prats would catch her on one of the few nights she slept nude. "Now, when did it start?" she asks, looking between Draco and Harry. Harry, she notices with a proud smile, is panting and huffing, his eyes firmly planted on a picture somewhere over her left shoulder.

Harry puffs and pants, clenching his teeth again. "About twenty minutes ago."

"Twenty min-! Harry! Why didn't you wake me sooner?" Draco demands, stalking towards the bed. He pushes the pillows behind Harry roughly and eases himself behind Harry, running a hand through Harry's damp hair as he kisses the back of his neck. He closes his eyes for a moment. He knows the answer and he feels like an utter arse. Of all the nights to be nearly comatose with his pills... He kisses the back of Harry's neck again and smiles a bit when one of Harry's hands slide down his belly to wrap around his.

Harry puffs, the sound close to a choked laugh. "I tried..." he says, groaning softly and leaning back into Draco as much as he dares. He shoots Hermione a grateful look when she approaches, her wand out, and casts a mild pain reliever and diagnostic spells as she gets closer. "Sorry, Mione."

"Oh, Harry, it's fine," Hermione says brightly, waving a dismissive hand. "Babies always keep their own schedule," Hermione says, smiling a bit. This isn't the first time she's been called out of bed and it won't be the last. She nods as all the diagnostic spells come back as she'd hoped. "Right, let's get you to the hospital," she says as she leans over and wraps an arm around Harry's waist and lifting him with surprising strength. "I've got him, Draco. You call Neville, yeah?"

Draco nods, wringing his hands a bit as he debates with himself. There is no one he entrusts Harry to more than Hermione but he doesn't want to leave his husband's side for a second. "Alright," he finally says just before they disappear through the floo. He scowls a bit, annoyed at the abrupt departure, before using the floo again the call Neville.

Minutes later, Draco and Neville are rushing through the halls of the new wizarding hospital, St. Lucas. Harry had picked it because it didn't have any negative memories for him and Draco just liked that it was a shiny, new building and less likely to be poorly secured or dirty. Hermione had also ensured he'd be in a very private, secured area. Looking up at the room numbers, he mutters "two oh four" over and over, keeping the room Harry is supposed to be in fresh in his mind. He finds the room with a triumphant noise and skids to a stop in the doorway as he sees the empty bed and his mother perched in a chair in the corner, grunting with surprise and pain when Neville crashes into him. "Mother," he says, his voice quiet with shock and surprise.

"Draco, darling," Narcissa says, standing gracefully and kissing Draco's cheek. She frowns ever so slightly at the hollow feel but brightens as she remembers the reason for her being there. "Neville," she says, nodding her head politely to the man with Draco. "Harry is in surgery and everything is going wonderfully," she informs her son, smiling softly. It's quite embarrassing how long she'd held Harry at arm's length. He'd been married to her son for years, obviously making him happy and it took her son's terminal illness and the arrival of a grandchild for her to come around. She knows she'll have to be subtle, Harry will likely shy away –or question her motives—if she suddenly hugged him or spoke kindly. Regret and shame has her smiling faltering a bit, so she sits back down and smoothes her robes out with a graceful sweep of her hands.

Draco finally eases into the room, sparing Neville a pained expression and nods. They'd both hoped to get here soon enough to be able to be present for the surgery. "Thank you," he says, lowering himself to the stiff hospital bed, absently reaching out for Neville's hand when the other man settles into the chair by the bed. "I don't suppose you know how long it'll be?"

Narcissa eyes her son's hand clasped in Neville's and clears her throat softly. "No, not precisely. Mrs. Granger-Richardson said it shouldn't be more than an hour, all together."

"Alright," Draco sighs and closes his eyes. It's only been 10 minutes or so since he thought Harry would've been in surgery. He knows his mother isn't saying it'll be longer should some complication arise and he finds himself praying nothing goes wrong. Please, for once, let Harry's luck work for the best.

Neville squeezes Draco's hand lightly, trying not to cause pain and tries to ignore the piercing gaze of Mrs. Malfoy. "It'll be fine, Draco. He's got the best team of healers with him. Specialists, too," he says quietly.

"I know," Draco says, cracking an eye open and giving Neville a small, brief thankful smile. He checks the time and groans softly. He should have known his daughter would choose the middle of the night to arrive. He sits up a bit straighter and looks over to his mother curiously as a thought occurs to him. Why is his mother even here? "Who let you know?" he asks, trying not to sound upset or accusatory.

Narcissa clears her throat again, fighting a blush of both embarrassment and joy. "Mrs. Granger-Richardson."

"Hermione told you?" Draco asks incredulously, gaping stupidly. He hadn't even been aware the two even corresponded. "When?"

"I was first alerted my presence would be appreciated about a month ago. I received her owl shortly after Harry was admitted and floo'd right over." She'd been offered to come in to the surgical room but declined, regretfully, sure that Harry wouldn't have appreciated it.

Draco blinks, surprised a bit chagrined that Hermione had taken it upon herself to contact his mother. He would have, eventually. He glances at Neville and sees a similar look of surprise on his face as well. As much as he's been irritated with his mother and her lack of a relationship with Harry, he finds himself pleased she's here. "I see. Thank you, Mother."

"Of course, Draco," Narcissa says, inclining her head and settling back in the chair as he picks up her book again.

An agonizing 45 minutes later, everyone in the room jumps when the door is thrown open and Hermione rushes in. She's wearing something akin to muggle scrubs, a surgical mask dangling around her neck. Her hair is back to its frizzy state, flying about her face in a crazy cloud and there's a brilliant smile on her face as she rushes over to Draco and gently envelopes him in a hug. "Congrats, daddy! It's a girl!" she laughs.

"I knew that already," Draco says, his voice hoarse as he talks around a lump in his throat. "How's Harry?"

Hermione smiles again and steps back, smoothing her wild hair back, conjuring a band around the bundle. "He's doing great, should be awake in a few minutes."

"And Amanda?" Neville asks, standing next to Draco.

Hermione clasps her hands together, holding them tightly between her breasts as she beams again. "Oh, she's absolutely beautiful! Healthy, a good size and already screaming for her mum."

"'Mum'?" Draco snorts, amused. "He'll love hearing that. When can we see her?"

Hermione goes to open her mouth but stops when there's a knock on the door. "Right about now, actually," she says brightly and hurries to open the door. She murmurs quietly to whoever is at the door and comes back into the room with a pink bundle cradled reverently in her arms. "Draco, Neville, Narcissa," she says looking around the room, then holds up the bundle a bit. "Meet Amanda Jean Potter," she says softly, moving the pink blanket away from a pink, slightly chubby faced baby before gently transferring her to Draco. As soon as Draco gets her, she quietly slips out, hoping that Harry is awake and can join his little family.

"Holy shit," Draco whispers with awed admiration, running a finger gently down one chubby, perfectly pink little cheek before sweeping it down her nose. He leans down, inhaling as deeply as he can and smiles. He doesn't think he'll ever forget that smell; his daughter. He turns a bit and smiles proudly at Neville. "She's finally here, Nev!" His voice chokes a bit at the end, but he's just so relieved he's there and able to hold his daughter he doesn't care how sappy he looks.

Neville nods, furiously blinking away a prickling feeling and smiling wide enough to make his cheeks hurt a bit. "That she is. She's beautiful," he says softly, stepping closer and pushing the blanket aside so he can take a peek. He chuckles as he sees a wisp of black hair poking out from the little pink cap on her head. "And she's got Potter hair, I believe," he says with a chuckle, gently fingering the dark hair over one tiny ear.

"Oh no," Draco murmurs and gently pulls the little pink cap off. His breath catches at the full head of wild, black hair that flies up and in every direction the moment the cap comes off. "Oh," he says again, sounding a bit breathless. He doesn't know whether to be insanely smitten at how much she looks like Harry or horribly sorry for his daughter to be cursed with his husband's atrocious hair. He places a gentle kiss on the soft hair and pauses, eyes wide with a bit of panic as she shifts a bit with a sigh, her little lips pursing and smacking a bit before she stills again. He grins at Neville and before the man can blink, he's transferred his daughter into the other wizard's arms. He nods once, proud that Neville's arms were up and cradling his daughter before he even placed his daughter there. He doesn't want to admit how much holding her has strained his arms. He sits back on the bed, smiling as Neville stares down at his daughter with wonder and love.

Neville looks up, still a bit in shock and absently runs his thumb over the tiny, dimpled knuckles of the hand sticking out of the blanket and resting against her face. He hasn't a clue why they're so fascinating. "She's perfect, Draco. Harry's going to be thrilled." Draco nods proudly in agreement and he goes back to looking over every part of Amanda that he can see. Her eyes are closed, but he's pretty sure they'd be blue... for now. Her little nose is a bit pointed, as well as her little chin. He runs a finger over one dark eyebrow and smiles. "Is it normal for her to be sleeping?" he asks, looking mostly at Narcissa. He'd always thought babies cried... all the time. Luna's twins certainly had; usually in shifts, too, the blighters.

"Of course," Narcissa says, nodding once. "It's tough work being born," she says, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Some babies are quite a joy, hardly ever putting up a fuss. I know it's hard to believe, but Draco was a very laid back baby. Only cried when he needed something and slept through by the time he was 2 months old," she says, fondly looking at Draco, her icy blue eyes a bit misty. She quietly walks towards the two men and nods towards Amanda. "May I, Draco?" she asks quietly. She wants to hold her granddaughter but she feels a bit reluctant to remove her from her godfather's hold, almost unwilling to disturb the two.

"Oh! Yes, of course, Mother," Draco says, giving her an apologetic smile. He'd nearly forgotten she was here and he wonders if she should have been offered to hold his daughter first. He shrugs a bit when Neville looks at him questioningly. He really can't refuse his mother, regardless of how she's been acting recently. He smiles slightly when Neville just nods and stands, gently transferring Amanda to Narcissa before moving to the chair in the corner of the room.

Narcissa pulls the blanket down and sighs with pride. "She's absolutely perfect, Draco," she says proudly, giving her son a quick but heartfelt smile. She's not at all surprised; it be nearly impossible for her son and Harry to make anything less than perfection. She softly brushes her nose against her granddaughter's, pulling back with a smile.

"Yes, I know," Draco says proudly. He can't help giving his mother a smug smile. He glances briefly towards the corner and frowns a bit, unsure why Neville has moved himself into the corner. Before he can ask about it the door opens and he's up and off the bed the moment he sees Harry. Relief and love rush through him as he watches a medi-witch guide his husband, carelessly sprawled out, in a floating chair into the room. He rushes over, helping the medi-witch maneuver Harry into the room, ignoring the slightly shocked look on her face. He grabs Harry's hand, smiling brightly down at him, easily ignoring the flair of pain in his hand. He runs a hand through his dark, messy hair and is only just able to restrain himself from pulling him out of the chair and holding him tightly. He leans over and kisses Harry softly, smiling as he stands back up. "Harry," he murmurs, relieved he looks completely fine, if only a bit tired and doped up.

Harry is looking groggy and a bit stoned but awake. His eyes brighten as he looks around the room and looks up to smile tiredly at Draco. "Have you seen her?" he asks quietly. He sighs with happiness and relief when the blonde nods. He'd been thrilled to know his daughter wasn't stuck in a cold, lonely bassinet in some nursery and had been placed in his room as soon as her tests had been performed. He goes to stand and scowls when the medi-witch pushes his shoulder firmly, making him flop back into the floating chair. "I want to see her," he says, looking up pleadingly. His hands nearly twitch with the urge to hold and touch his daughter. He'd been a bit upset to wake up and see a flat belly, his hands patting at the area with a bit of panic. Thankfully, any of the painful healing parts were completely over by the time he awoke and now he only wants to see his daughter and take a nap.

"I know, and you can," the medi-witch says kindly. "But in bed first. You've just been healed from major surgery! Healer Granger-Richardson will have my wand if I don't make sure you're taking it easy," she tuts softly, reminding Harry strongly of Madam Pomfrey, as she directs the chair alongside the bed. She ignores Harry's protests that he isn't an invalid and floats him onto the bed, tucking the blankets around him and fixing the bed's angle. She waves her wand and casts a mild binding charm, limiting how much Harry can sit up and ensure he can't leave the bed until Healer Granger-Richardson clears him. "There, that wasn't so terrible, was it?" she asks with a grin. "Right, I'll be back with a breakfast tray," she pauses and looks around the room. "Normally, we only allow two visitors at a time, so..." she trails off meaningfully and bustles out of the room, she hadn't the heart to actually remove anyone and hopes no one causes a fuss to make her regret her leniency, offering Harry and Draco her congratulations.

Harry sits up, as far as his bed and magical bindings allow, and wiggles his fingers at Narcissa. "May I have her please?" he asks, barely restraining the urge to just demand his daughter. He really didn't mind Narcissa holding Amanda, but he feels a bit petty at the moment. He wants his daughter, dammit; it's annoying that so many people have already seen and held her before he got the chance.

"Of course," Narcissa says and carefully eases her granddaughter into Harry's arms. She allows a small smile as she watches Harry's face light up as he stares down at his daughter, a finger tracing gentle patterns over her small pink face. She clears her throat softly when she sees Draco staring at the pair as well, his eyes intent but misty and happy. "I'll be going now."

Draco's gaze reluctantly leaves Harry and his daughter to glance up at his mother. "Alright. Thank you for coming," he says, standing to kiss his mother's cheek. He watches his mother say polite and slightly awkward goodbyes to Harry and Neville before she leaves in a graceful sweep of lavender robes.

"That was weird," Harry mutters, his eyes still down and staring intently at his daughter. He flicks his eyes up and sees Draco nodding. "I hope you don't expect me to be nice to her now..."

Draco chuckles as he eases himself back onto the bed, pressing along Harry's side snugly. "Not at all, love. She's got to earn that, I believe."

"Damn right," Harry mumbles. He looks around and smiles brightly when he finally sees Neville sitting in the corner. He was just about to ask where the man was. "Nev!" he says happily. "I'm so glad you're here."

Neville smiles and gets up, moving around the bed to sit at the end. He's no longer feeling awkward now that Mrs. Malfoy has left. He didn't really care what she thought about his friendship with Harry and Draco, he just had never been comfortable around the woman; her stern, cool demeanor reminds him too much of his gran to be comfortable around the woman. He gently places a hand on Harry's leg. "How're you feeling?" he asks, looking at Harry closely.

"Good, surprisingly. Tired and a bit achy, but good... considering. I love magic," Harry says and gives a cheeky grin. He shudders a bit at the thought of going through the surgery without magical healing. He knows muggles use horrid things like stitches and staples instead of healing charms and potions and he's flooded with relief and gratitude he didn't have to suffer through such things. A twinge in his lower stomach is really the only indicator that he'd be sliced open and his baby removed less than an hour ago. He pats the bed next to him, grinning at Neville.

Neville rolls his eyes but smiles and moves to lay next to Harry, a bit surprised when the bed enlarges a bit and a pillow pops up behind him. "Comfy," he says dryly, resting back on the narrow, flat pillow. He snuggles down, settling himself comfortably along Harry's side, turning a bit so he can see the others in the bed better.

"It's horrible," Draco says in agreement, just as dryly. He snorts with amusement when Harry nods and snakes an arm behind him and pulls his husband close. He rests his chin on Harry's shoulder as he looks down at his daughter and sighs happily. He might have missed the chance to watch her be born but he hadn't missed the opportunity to be here. He feels insanely grateful, in an odd way and can only hope he'll have some more time to watch her grow a bit. He runs a finger gently down the slope of her little nose and wonders what color her eyes will be.

Harry rests his head on Neville's shoulder and doesn't bother moving when the door opens again.

"Everything good?" Hermione asks, not even blinking at the full bed. She pulls her wand and waves it over Harry, quickly performing many diagnostic spells. She tucks her wand away, nodding happily as all three men look up at her expectantly. "Everything is good," she says happily, sitting at the foot of the bed. "Healing is nearly all the way, but you're still restricted for at least another 2 hours. Vitals are all great and Amanda here is also doing extremely well." She unslings the bag on her shoulder, plopping it onto the bed and unzipping it. "This is a few basics, just while you're here," she says, removing a small pile of diapers, blankets and a half dozen ready-made bottles. She casts a mild heating charm on one of the bottles and hands it to Neville. "Just in case… I think she'll be asking for that shortly." Another small pile of onsies joins the other piles. She eyes the items critically before nodding and putting them away again, only keeping the bottles out. She arranges them on the rolling table next to the bed and stretches a bit.

Harry grins at his friend and healer. "When can I leave?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione says fondly, rolling her eyes a bit. "You've just had a baby. You're stuck here for at least a day. Observation and all that," she says sternly. "Might as well get over it," she says before laughing at Harry's disgruntled expression. "For both of you, you know," she points out and Harry's face, predictably, smoothes out and he nods immediately. Of course he'd agree for Amanda's well-being.

Amanda stirs, her lips smacking before her face pinks and scrunches up. Before she can get a loud wail out, Neville passes the bottle to Harry who eases it into Amanda's open mouth. "Hermione," Harry chides, his eyes finally tearing away from staring at his daughter. "If you wake her again, I'm going to hex you."

"Well, sorry," Hermione says a bit sarcastically. "Babies cry, and she was hungry. It wasn't me," she shrugs. "But I've got to go anyway, I've a few patients to check on before I can get out of here," she stands and smoothes her pants before kissing each of their cheeks, running a gentle finger down her goddaughter's cheek before she leaves. "I'll be back in a few hours," she says, sweeping out of the room.

The room is quiet except for the snuffly sucking sounds of Amanda finishing her bottle. Just as she starts sucking air, Harry pulls the bottle out with a pop and easily switches her to his shoulder. "What?" he asks, his hand pausing in the patting motion when he feels two intense gazes on him. He looks between Neville and Draco with a bit of confusion.

"I don't know why you were so worried, love," Draco says, a smile tugging at his lips. "You're a natural," he says quietly, a bit envious. He knows he won't be that natural and sure with his daughter. He wouldn't have thought to pat her bum until a wet burp came out. He sees Neville nodding in agreement and sends him a smile. He lies back, letting his gaze fall on his daughter's face over Harry's shoulder. Her eyes are already drooping again and he hopes they'll be a vibrant green like Harry's.

Harry shrugs his free shoulder, a slight blush on his face. "Well, good then," is all he can think to say. He hadn't thought twice; he just did what he knew he needed to do. He didn't know if he'd be as 'natural' when it came to everything else but he's oddly excited to find out. He settles back in the bed, his daughter on his shoulder still as he snuggles against Draco and Neville, indescribably happy both are there with him.

...o...

Harry fastens the last picture in the last album with a quick sticking charm, twirling his wand a bit before sliding it up his sleeve. He's quite pleased his magic is completely back to normal and he's not at all embarrassed to use to for even the littlest things now. He slides his wand back out and with a quick flick he watches the date appear on the front of the newest album. He'll need to get another...

He smiles as he sorts the numerous albums. He'd barely gone an hour without a camera either in his hand or floating around -charmed to take a picture when he said 'cheese!'- taking pictures. He wanted as many as possible. He didn't want to miss a second of his daughter's growth or miss a single moment of Draco holding her. She's gotten bigger in the few weeks she's been born and Draco tended to perch her in a chest carrier and making sure he was sitting or laying down before holding her. He'd gotten quite adept at piling pillows in an intricate pattern to feed her and still hold her close without tiring his arms or risk dropping her.

Harry runs a finger down photo-Draco's cheek, the picture looping to show Draco making a goofy face as Amanda stares up at him with wide eyes. Draco had been a bit put out when he saw the camera flash but Harry refused to get rid of the picture, no matter how embarrassing his husband found it. He loves it and will cherish it forever. He's glad he spent the extra Galleons on albums with protection and preservation charms on them.

There are pictures of Neville and Hermione with Amanda as well, but most of them are of Draco and Harry can't look at most of them without a bittersweet feeling constricting his chest and making his eyes prickle. He'd probably still be taking so many pictures even in better circumstances.

Sitting back in his chair, taking a moment to check the alarm and smiling when it's still glowing a soft yellow to indicate Amanda is still sleeping peacefully, he pulls an album into his lap and looks through the pictures again.

"I like that one."

Harry jumps a bit before smiling up at Neville, chuckling softly as his friend perches on the armrest of his chair. "I do, too." He glances down and grins at the picture of the first time Draco was had to change a diaper, without the benefit of magic. The expression on his face... priceless. "First and last time for that, I believe." Neville moved in about a week after Amanda was born when Draco asked -well, practically demanded- it. He'd been unhappily living alone and jumped at the chance. He still feels a bit bad, but still immensely grateful, for all the help Neville has been the past few weeks helping him take care of Amanda... and Draco.

"I do believe," Neville agrees, smiling softly. He rests his hand on the back of Harry's neck, warm and happy when Harry leans into the touch and settles into his chair with a soft, contented sigh. He glances up out of habit and checks Amanda's alarm and nods with satisfaction that it's still a sunny yellow. "Did you enchant that camera to follow him everywhere?" he asks, trying not to giggle or coo adoringly at a picture of Draco laying practically naked in bed with Amanda laying on his chest. The pair are both asleep, identical peaceful expressions on their faces.

Harry nods, looking at the picture with a small smile. He adores this picture; every time he looks at it he wants to crawl in and curl up around them both. "Sorta," he finally answers. "I charmed one camera just to follow Draco whenever he was with Amanda. He learned pretty quick to hand her off or set her in her bed before hitting the loo," he adds with a chuckle.

"I bet," Neville says, shifting on the arm to tuck his foot up on the cushion, leaning down to look at the pictures better. No matter how many times he looks through them, there are always new ones. He looks up when Draco shuffles in the room. He jumps up from the chair, helping Draco over to the overstuffed chair to plop down next to Harry. "Hungry?" he asks quietly.

Draco shakes his head slowly, curling up a bit and settling into Harry's side. "No," he murmurs. He only wants Harry. Everything hurts and he truly fears the worst. He closes his eyes, burying his face in Harry's neck, inhaling as deeply as he can.

Harry and Neville share a look before Harry kisses Draco's forehead, thanking Neville softly when the other man closes the album and gently takes it from Harry. Harry shifts a bit, getting more comfortable to hold Draco to him, thanking Neville again when Amanda is put in his lap, snuggled between them. He rolls his eyes at the camera flash. "You..." he trails off and huffs, a small smile on his face. "I suppose it's only fair, yeah?"

"Yeap," Neville says, as brightly as he can. There weren't nearly enough pictures of the whole little family, in his opinion. He sets the camera down and with a quick smile, settles himself carefully next to Harry. He can't help but sigh with contentment when Harry pulls him closer and rests his head on his shoulder.

...o...

Harry bolts upright in bed, waking with a sudden feeling of panic. He looks around groggily and hears a soft snuffling noise from the bassinet next to the bed. Most times, he didn't usually wake up until his daughter actually cries. He eases out of bed to pick her up before her snuffles can turn into wails, hopefully reducing the chance of her waking anyone. He summons a bottle with a sleepy wave of his hand and settles back in bed, holding Amanda close as he leans up against the headboard to give her her bottle. He yawns softly, pausing with his mouth still open when he notices the other side of the bed is empty. "Draco?" he calls out softly, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for an answer. None comes. Panic flares through him again as he sits upright again, dislodging the bottle a bit. He swiftly stands, holding his daughter a bit closer as he looks around the room, his eyes having adjusted to the dim lighting. A feeling of dread worms through him and he shivers.

"Neville," he says quietly, knowing it is too quiet for the other man to hear even if he was in the same room, and stands in front of the bathroom door frozen with indecision and a bit of fear.

He swallows thickly; Draco's health sharply declined, suddenly and with little warning, about a week ago and he's terrified of what he'll find. He whimpers softly, dropping the empty bottle carelessly to the floor and shifts Amanda with unconscious instinct to his shoulder. He pats her back softly, shifting from foot to foot trying to work up the courage to move. He reaches out but his hand just hovers over the door knob, shaking slightly. A soft glow of light is visible just under the door and he still can't bring himself to move. "Neville," he whispers, this time with relief when the other man eases into the room and walks over and stands next to him.

Neville woke with a start, looking around with confusion. None of the alarms he set before he went to bed have gone off and he can't figure out why he's woken up. He eased out of bed and quietly padded down the hallway to Harry and Draco's room and slowly opened the door when the knob easily turned. He paused when he saw Harry standing in front of the bathroom door, a look of indecision and fear on his face as he held Amanda close to his chest. "Harry," he says quietly, reaching out a hand and placing it gently on his arm. "Is everything alright?" His eyes flick to the bathroom door and a terrible feeling of dread works through him when he sees the soft light shining under the door. Everything clicks terribly into place and he sways a bit on his feet.

Harry slowly turns to Neville. "I don't know," he whispers, his voice strained. He doesn't protest when Neville eases Amanda out of his arms and just watches Neville sit in the padded chair he feeds Amanda in, patting her back with a gentle hand. He slowly turns back to the door. "I can't," he whispers in an agonized voice, wringing his hands with jerky movements. He should go in; what if Draco is hurt and needs help? His dithering could mean all the difference. Draco's balance and strength have both decreased rapidly and he's already fallen a few times. Graphic images of _What If_ flash through his mind and he whimpers softly.

"Do you want me to?" Neville offers, rubbing small, gentle circles on Amanda's back as she drifts off with a soft burp, full and satisfied. He spares a moment of envy for his goddaughter; he wishes he hadn't a clue what was going on in the world, not having a care past a clean bum and a full belly. He has no real desire to see what could be in that room but he hates the idea of Harry seeing it even more. He watches Harry shift from foot to foot and he's about to stand and put Amanda in her bassinet when Harry finally answers.

Harry shakes his head and slowly moves forward, his hand pausing over the doorknob for a long moment before he takes a deep breath and turns it. He eases into the room before slamming the door open the rest of way and rushing in, dropping to his knees unmindful of the sharp pain that shoots up from his knees as he lands on the tiles. "Draco!" he cries. His breath comes in sharp little pants as he looks down at his husband, his hands waving a bit with helplessness and indecision. Draco is lying motionless in an awkward position on the floor, too still to bring any comfort, and Harry hasn't any idea what to do. He doesn't know if he should move him. He makes a distressed noise and shuffles closer on his knees, pulling Draco's head into his lap.

Neville closes his eyes, a pained breath leaving him at Harry's agonized wail. He gets up and gently places Amanda in her bassinet, smoothing a hand over her messy hair and tucking her in, making sure she's asleep before heading towards the bathroom. He stops in the doorway and his heart stops for a long, painful second as he takes in the scene before him. Harry is on the floor, crying almost hysterically and muttering 'Draco' over and over, running a hand through limp, pale hair. He staggers back a few steps, barely catching himself on the doorjamb. Draco is pale, an unnatural color and he can't tell if the blonde is breathing or not.

Harry can't breathe, his chest feels like it's ripping open and he's barely restraining the urge to shake Draco like rag doll to get him to move, talk, breathe, _anything_. He's shaking so bad he can't tell if Draco's moving or not. "Draco," he whispers, patting his pale, gaunt cheek in an effort to rouse him. He absently wipes his tears off with the back of his hand, rocking a bit as he kneels on the floor.

"Harry," Neville says softly, unable to speak above a whisper, and carefully shuffles closer. He doesn't know how many times he calls Harry before he finally looks up, his green eyes red rimmed, full of pain and devastation. "Harry," he says and kneels next to him. "I think we need to floo Hermione," he says, no matter how much he hates the idea of leaving Harry alone.

Harry shudders, gratefully leaning into Neville's embrace when he feels an arm wrap tightly around his shoulders. He turns into Neville's embrace, his free hand fisting tightly in Neville's sleep shirt. He knows they need to call Hermione but he can't stand being on his own at the moment. He holds onto Draco, his fingers wound tightly in his hair. He nods slowly, realizing with a sick sense of dismay his tight grip causes no reaction at all. He'd give anything for a shriek and a stern warning about mussing the pale perfection. "Just... give me a minute, please," he whispers. He gives a great shuddering sigh when he feels Neville nod. He slowly regains some composure and he leans up. "OK," he whispers. He's vaguely aware that Neville stands, moving away and out of the bathroom but he focuses only on watching Draco's chest. Is it moving?

Hermione rushes through the floo, barely sparing a moment to put on her robe, the second she heard Neville's choked voice in her floo. She didn't need the man to tell her why she was wanted. She grabbed her wand, her healer bag and stepped through immediately, pausing only to hug Neville tightly. "Where?" she asks quietly.

Neville can only point, a lump in his throat. He accepts another hug from Hermione and follows the witch slowly, both unwilling to see again and hating leaving Harry alone any longer than necessary. The warring feelings make his head throb and he shuffles back into the room.

"Oh," Hermione says quietly as she steps in the dimly lit bathroom, the sound coming out more like a sigh; soft and hushed. She covers her mouth with her hands, grief nearly overwhelming her as she takes in the scene before her. She slowly approaches Harry, her hand resting on the top of his head for a second before she kneels down and crushes him in a hug. She can't find words and when he pulls away, she sees Harry doesn't expect any. Honestly; What is there to say? She turns to Neville after a long moment, "Maybe some tea, yeah?" she asks quietly. She slowly draws her wand from her sleeve but won't do anything with it until both men leave. She give's Neville's hand a squeeze and a look that she hopes conveys her feelings of shared grief and loss, nodding thankfully when Neville pulls Harry up and into a tight embrace, drawing him away.

Harry pauses, just inside the doorway and glances back before a warm hand is cupping his chin and turning his head away again. He doesn't fight it, just sighs and allows himself to be lead. He really shouldn't torture himself like this but he doesn't want to believe his eyes.

"C'mon, I'll make tea," Neville says softly. He pauses only long enough to make sure the alarm charm is still active over Amanda's bassinet and silently leads Harry to the kitchen. He watches sadly as Harry lowers himself onto the stool and he has to turn around. His hands go into the familiar motions as he makes tea, leaving his brain trying to find something else to focus on. He can't believe this is happening; he'd foolishly hoped that expecting it would lessen the grief and sick sense of unreality. His chest constricts painfully and he's not sure who sobs first. He sets the teabags in to steep and circles the small island to stand in front of Harry.

Harry looks up and immediately grabs Neville, not caring at all if it's wrong or not; he needs his comfort. He gives Neville comfort as well, so maybe it's alright. He sobs soundlessly, his chest heaving painfully as Neville holds him and supports nearly all his weight. He runs a hand down Neville's back when the other wizard buries his face in Harry's neck and sobs brokenly. He doesn't know if he can comfort Neville enough, but he tries and he's grateful Neville is trying as well. After long moments, they slowly separate and Neville summons their mugs. They slump on their stools, waiting. Waiting for word from Hermione. Waiting for Amanda to wake up. Waiting for something to happen that'll make this seem like less of a nightmare. They both look up with matching carefully blank expressions on their faces when they hear soft footsteps.

"I'm sorry Harry, Neville," Hermione says softly. "He's alive; breathing, but only just…" she trails off sadly, her eyes watering. She takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid he's in a coma. I don't know if it's magical or just…" she pauses, unable to finish the thought. "I don't know what to do," she whispers, her brown eyes shiny with tears. "I know what I would do, what I would recommend as a healer but this…" she shakes her head, angry at the sudden loss and at her inability to give Harry the advice he needs. It's little comfort that Draco lasted longer than any other patient with a similar diagnosis. It didn't give a baby her father back and it didn't give her best friend his husband back.

"He didn't want any drastic measures taken," Harry says quietly, leaning against Neville gratefully when he feels an arm around him again. "He… he…" he trails off, shaking his head, unable to finish. "Ask Blaise," he finally whispers. Everything, down to each and every possibility, was listed in his final wishes and he can't remember what Draco wanted in case of coma but he can guess. There was nothing, barring a miracle cure, that he wanted done to prolong his life. "Is there any chance?" he asks quietly, looking up at Hermione.

Hermione gazes back, her chest painfully thudding and squeezing at the completely devastated look on Harry's face. She can't lie and the truth hurts "No, Harry. Not for the reasons he went into the coma, there's very little, if any, chance of recovery. Fuck," she whispers, wrapping her arms around both men tightly. "I'm so sorry."

Harry can only nod. He's sorry, too. They huddle close again, each hugging and offering whatever comfort they can. It's not enough but it helps. For now.

…o…

Harry sits in an uncomfortably padded chair, blank faced and numb, shifting awkwardly in his scratchy suit. His eyes flick occasionally to the elegant silver urn at the front of the room on an equally elegant stand but he looks through it. A large, tasteful photo of Draco is suspended behind it and he can't take his eyes off of it for long. He nearly kissed Blaise for the photo choice; it was one from their private wedding ceremony and Draco practically glows with smug happiness. His stark grey eyes are practically sparkling as they stare out of the moving photo and his pale hair blew about his face, almost creating a halo, in a gentle breeze. A small but extremely pleased smile graces his pale, handsome face and he looks to the left, where Harry remembers he was standing. He watches transfixed as those gorgeous grey eyes soften and shine with love and adoration. He didn't care he wasn't present in the picture or that it felt too personal to show to others before; it's the perfect picture to show this last time.

He'd been a bit surprised by the nearly Muggle ceremony, but having little knowledge in wizarding practices he couldn't say if it was odd or not. He hadn't been surprised in his husbands wishes. He thought it a bit morbid to be expected to retain his... urn but he felt oddly comforted by it, nonetheless. Plus, Draco had a bit of an irrational fear of grave-robbers that would either deface his final resting place or try to steal pieces of him for nefarious potions. He'd rolled his eyes, snorting with amusement for the first time in weeks when Blaise made him pick the urn, sharing with him Draco's reasoning.

There weren't a lot of long speeches from a religious man and he finds that a bit of a relief. Instead, close friends and family stood, saying kind words or sharing stories. He isn't surprised by how many people's lives were touched by Draco, good or bad. Few brought up unpleasant memories and if they did it was only to lead into one that was happier or even humorous. He'd briefly said his peace, uncaring how short and unfeeling it sounded to anyone listening. For over 6 months, not a day went by without him telling Draco he was loved, cherished and would be missed. He couldn't bring himself to utter those words to a gathering of mostly strangers.

He shifts Amanda up on his shoulder, snuggling into her fresh scent and warmth. He sighs, leaning against Neville when the other man wraps an arm around his waist. He hates that people stare at them. He hates that his friendship with Neville is drawing people's attention away from the urn or the breathtakingly beautiful image. He hates all of it but he can't and won't ask Neville to back away. He won't ask Neville to stop giving him comfort. He refuses to give a shit about the gossips and the irritating people that only know how to whisper and poke their noses into where they didn't belong.

"Are you alright?"

"No," Harry says honestly, his face feeling stiff. He's not sure he's able to cry anymore and absently wonders if he's reached some sort of limit on his body's ability to produce tears. He wonders if people are thinking he's a heartless bastard since he's not crying at his husband's memorial service with another man's arm around him. He slowly looks over at Neville, giving him a small smile. He sees grief and pain on his face too and he knows people won't understand. "But I will be," he says quietly, shifting his daughter again so he can look into her peaceful face. His smile grows a bit when he feels Neville's chin on his shoulder, knowing the other man is looking down at his daughter as well. He stills as sleepy blue-grey eyes blink, looking back at him for a long moment and scrunch with displeasure as the wails start. He quickly fishes a bottle out of the diaper bag he's taken to carrying, trying to hurry so his daughter's cries don't attract more attention. He'd been able to keep her out of the public view and he intends to keep it that way. He wandlessly casts a mild heating charm, long ago mastering how strong to make it but he still tests it. He watches as little fingers reach for the bottle clumsily as he guides it to her mouth.

Neville watches Amanda suck greedily on her bottle before his gaze is drawn to the morbidly beautiful silver urn a few feet away. His heart is torn up both for Harry and himself. He's only missing a good friend but Harry... he shakes his head and watches Harry feed Amanda for awhile longer. He notices the familiar movements from the corner of his eye of Amanda being placed on Harry's shoulder so he helps Harry pack away the baby things and shoulders the bag as he slowly stands. He didn't want to go to some party full of people offering empty sympathy. "I don't want to go," he says quietly, looking through the large windows to eye the line of somber black limos waiting to take them to some classy, expensive restaurant for the luncheon. He honestly could understand celebrating a loved one's life but most of those people attending barely knew Draco. As least, they barely knew him in the same way as he or Harry did. He sneers; gossips and social clingers just looking for connections or a free lunch are not who he wants to be around.

"Me neither," Harry admits. The only people who give him comfort are already with him, with the exception of Hermione. Well... Blaise and Pansy have both been surprisingly comforting as well. He'd noticed their reddened eyes but didn't comment on it, just hugged them both much to their shock. He smiles a bit when Hermione seems to glide across the room in her severe black dress, a veil over her face and a stark white handkerchief clutched tightly in her fist. He folds her into a tight hug, only letting go when Amanda squawks indignantly when she gets a bit squished. "Hey Mione," he says, sniffling wetly. Apparently, he isn't out of tears. They leak from his eyes, dripping from his chin. He smiles softly when Hermione dabs at his face with a spare handkerchief, tucking it into his suit pocket when she's cleaned him up a bit.

Hermione sniffles, lifting her veil delicately to dab at her eyes with the handkerchief. "Harry, Neville," she says, hugging each man again briefly. "Amanda," she coos, tickling her goddaughter under the chin and smiling brightly for a moment when Amanda gurgles and her fists wiggle a bit. She didn't know what else to say. Sorry? Lovely service? Both are true but completely lacking in describing the depth of her feelings, falling a bit flat and unable to express the true depth of her sorrow and grief. If she didn't think Harry already knew this, she'd panic and probably start babbling all sorts of nonsense. Instead, she offers a smile, grabs Amanda from Harry and heads towards the nearest apparation point. Knowing Harry and Neville, they're skipping the luncheon and would rather get ice cream. She smiles when each of them wrap and arm about her waist or shoulder and there is a soft call of "Ice cream!". Neville pauses only long enough to summon the beautiful urn, gently cradling it in the crook of his elbow.

With a soft crack, they leave the building full of well-wishers.

People look around briefly, trying to spot Harry and the baby or Hermione or even Neville, but the crowd slowly disperses and limos pull away. Blaise and Pansy share a small smile and climb into the back of a waiting limo. Sure, they'd rather bugger off and sneak some ice cream too, joining the newly befriended trio, but they can't bear to not be witness to the circus that is sure to follow. Pansy discretely wipes a tear from her eye and smiles a bit when Blaise gives her hand a gentle squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thanks for reading!_ ❤


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